<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:07:50.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>J. Hunter Quinn</title><subtitle type='html'>A homeschooler who loves the outdoors.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-5268054911033648210</id><published>2007-06-19T16:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T16:13:07.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishing and Church</title><content type='html'>More than &lt;a href="http://www.katmasters.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12316"&gt;likely&lt;/a&gt;, this man does not believe in the centrality of the Church.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-5268054911033648210?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/5268054911033648210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=5268054911033648210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/5268054911033648210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/5268054911033648210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/06/fishing-and-church.html' title='Fishing and Church'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-1467456015485601441</id><published>2007-05-31T11:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T14:36:38.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Battle of Jutland</title><content type='html'>Today, May 31, is the ninety-first anniversary of the Battle of Jutland, the largest navel battle of World War I.  It was the only major clash of battleships in the war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The British had blockaded the ports of Germany, leaving the Second Reich in a desperate situation.  In order for the blockade to be broken, the British navy had to be defeated in a massive navy battle.  Thus began the battle of Jutland...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Jutland"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to learn more about this massive battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: The 45th did fight in the First World War, but they did not participate in this engagement.  This was exclusively a navy and air battle, and the warring sides were the British and the Germans.  America had not yet entered the war.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-1467456015485601441?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/1467456015485601441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=1467456015485601441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/1467456015485601441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/1467456015485601441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/05/battle-of-jutland.html' title='Battle of Jutland'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-8750362077742494534</id><published>2007-05-30T17:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T17:52:20.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vengeance on Baby Killers</title><content type='html'>The reason why the Middle East hates us?  The answer is simple yet painful.  According to a member Al-Qaeda, terrorists refuse to talk with &lt;a href="http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=070530102648.wuwa6k96&amp;show_article=1&amp;catnum=-1"&gt;"baby killers."&lt;/a&gt;   How chilling!  If only everyone in America were to follow the Sixth Commandment, Al-Qaeda would not hate us...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-8750362077742494534?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/8750362077742494534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=8750362077742494534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/8750362077742494534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/8750362077742494534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/05/vengeance-on-baby-killers.html' title='Vengeance on Baby Killers'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-1730060069529475222</id><published>2007-05-29T12:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T10:40:40.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monster Hog</title><content type='html'>Before I go on with this big news, I have even bigger news.  NO, I HAVE NOT DIED! I know you were searching the newspapers for my obituary, gone in to mourning,and all that other stuff.   But now, rejoice!  You have not gotten rid of me yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now onto the the less exciting news.  You are probably to busy rejoicing to read it, but I will put it up anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Alabama, a boy shot the new world-record &lt;a href="http://www.tuscaloosanews.com/article/20070526/NEWS/705260309/0/aptheme"&gt;hog&lt;/a&gt; with a pistol.  It took 3 hours and nine shots to finally bring it down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-1730060069529475222?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/1730060069529475222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=1730060069529475222' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/1730060069529475222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/1730060069529475222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/05/monster-hog.html' title='Monster Hog'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-2847198904291569729</id><published>2007-03-02T13:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T13:57:02.575-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Banzai!!!</title><content type='html'>Draw your &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,256143,00.html"&gt;swords&lt;/a&gt; men...and women?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-2847198904291569729?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2847198904291569729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=2847198904291569729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2847198904291569729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2847198904291569729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/03/banzai.html' title='Banzai!!!'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-5177152647002284932</id><published>2007-03-01T19:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T19:28:33.618-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, the Humble Arrogance!</title><content type='html'>In his book, Orthodoxy, Chesterton maintains that modern men are much too humble.  We might be shocked at this assumption, but Chesterton goes on to explain, “A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed.  Nowadays, the part of a man that a man does assert is exactly the part he ought not to assert – himself.  The part he doubts is exactly the part he ought not to doubt – the Divine Reason…the new sceptic is so humble that he doubts if he can even learn.”  When you hear this statement, you immediately think that you should have thought of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True to his nature, Chesterton adds a little twist of humor that fits in just perfectly.  He says, “We are on the road to producing a race of men too mentally modest to believe in the multiplication tables.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me say no more, and you go buy the book yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-5177152647002284932?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/5177152647002284932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=5177152647002284932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/5177152647002284932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/5177152647002284932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/03/oh-humble-arrogance.html' title='Oh, the Humble Arrogance!'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-1856131440354358862</id><published>2007-02-22T09:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T20:31:13.778-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Refutation of Narcissus and Echo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Here is a myth I had to refute for school.  Click &lt;a href="http://lincolntylerdutcher.blogspot.com/2007/02/refutation-of-jason-and-argonauts.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see another refuted myth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is an ancient Roman myth about a hurt lover, a proud man, and a vengeful goddess.  Although enjoyable, this myth is definitely false.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once there lived a man named Narcissus, who was loved by a nymph named Echo.  Echo pursued Narcissus, attempting to win his affection.  Sharply, Narcissus told Echo that he did not love her.  Angered at his response, the nymph asked Nemesis, the goddess of retribution, for help.  Pitying Echo, Nemesis caused Narcissus to fall in love with his own reflection.  Narcissus was so enamored with himself that he refused to eat.  He grew thinner and thinner until, with a cry of pain and agony, he withered into a flower.  Although still angry with Narcissus, Echo felt sorry for him and echoed his cries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to show you a few contradictions, errors, improbabilities, impossibilities, and logical fallacies in this myth.  I am of the belief that, once we have examined this myth, we will see that it is impossible for this to have actually happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, let us look at the author.  His name is Publius Ovidius Naso, commonly called Ovid, a master in prose and poetry.  If we examine his life, we will see that the Emperor Augustus banished him because of the scandalous nature of his work.  Augustus never forgave him, so Ovid died in exile.  Because of this, I ask that we examine his works critically, for Augustus was intent on reforming the lives of Roman citizens, and Ovid was encouraging sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, this myth is improbable.  It was most likely written to convey the fact that being too proud can lead to dangerous consequences.  Although the moral is true, this myth never happened.  The aim of this story is to assist in teaching a moral truth, rather than recount a historical story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, this myth is extremely obscure: there is no physical evidence nor witnesses to verify that this narrative actually took place.  We should never, ever simply believe something without some sort of witness or evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, this myth is clearly impossible and illogical.  Could someone please tell me how a person withers into a flower?  And, of all the possibilities, Narcissus becomes a flower after he refuses to eat!  Barring the fact that a lack of nutrients fails to create something different, logic itself defeats the story.  In logic, the concept of an object is defined by descriptions called notes.  A 3rd century logician named Porphyry assisted in the organization of notes by inventing a chart called the Porphyrian Tree.  This chart lists all objects in simple categories.  If you examine the notes of man, you would see that man is a rational( the ability to distinguish true and false), sentient (having senses), living, material(having a body) substance.  Yet a flower is simply a non-sentient, living, material substance.  This tells us that a flower is completely different from man.  Without a doubt, a rational, sentient, living, material substance can not mysteriously change into a sentient, living, material substance.  We now come to the conclusion that a  man cannot, and will not, change into a flower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, I ask that you examine this evidence for yourself and decide whether this myth is history, or simply a moral story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-1856131440354358862?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/1856131440354358862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=1856131440354358862' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/1856131440354358862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/1856131440354358862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/02/refutation-of-narcissus-and-echo.html' title='The Refutation of Narcissus and Echo'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-311973812059035039</id><published>2007-02-04T14:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T14:55:52.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Man</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, hunger simply takes over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EazWtnhz4-4"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EazWtnhz4-4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-311973812059035039?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/311973812059035039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=311973812059035039' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/311973812059035039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/311973812059035039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-am-man.html' title='I Am Man'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-2265515968545644660</id><published>2007-01-23T09:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T09:25:42.932-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark Twain Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a title="Click for further information about this quotation" href="http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/253.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Clothes make the man.  Naked people have little or no influence on society.&lt;br /&gt;Mark Twain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I oppose millionaires, but it would be dangerous to offer me that position.&lt;br /&gt;Mark Twain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-2265515968545644660?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2265515968545644660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=2265515968545644660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2265515968545644660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2265515968545644660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/mark-twain-quotes.html' title='Mark Twain Quotes'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-6531402792464078175</id><published>2007-01-18T19:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T19:16:44.407-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Children and Christianity</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3-year-old Reese:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Our Father, Who art in heaven,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Harold is His name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;wbr&gt;~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A little boy was overheard praying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Lord, if you can't make me a better boy, don't worry about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I'm having a real good time like I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;wbr&gt;~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After the christening of his baby brother in church,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Jason sobbed all the way home in the back seat of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;His father asked him three times what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Finally, the boy replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"That preacher said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and I wanted to stay with you guys."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;One particular four-year-old prayed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"And forgive us our trash baskets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A Sunday school teacher asked her children as they&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;were on the way to church service,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"And why is it necessary to be quiet in church?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;One bright little girl replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Because people are sleeping."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;wbr&gt;~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A mother was preparing pancakes for her sons, Kevin 5, and Ryan 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The boys began to argue over who would get the first pancake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Their mother saw the opportunity for a moral lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"If Jesus were sitting here, He would say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;'Let my brother have the first pancake, I can wait.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Kevin turned to his younger brother and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Ryan, you be Jesus!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;wbr&gt;~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A father was at the beach with his children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;when the four-year-old son ran up to him,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;grabbed his hand, and led him to the shore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;where a seagull lay dead in the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Daddy, what happened to him?" the son asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"He died and went to Heaven," the Dad replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The boy thought a moment and then said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Did God throw him back down?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;wbr&gt;~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A wife invited some people to dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;At the table, she turned to their six-year-old daughter and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Would you like to say the blessing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"I wouldn't know what to say," the girl replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Just say what you hear Mommy say," the wife answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The daughter bowed her head and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Lord, why on earth did I invite all these people to dinner?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-6531402792464078175?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6531402792464078175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=6531402792464078175' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6531402792464078175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6531402792464078175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/children-and-christianity.html' title='Children and Christianity'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-6625465976707515398</id><published>2007-01-17T18:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T18:34:51.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tolkien Quote</title><content type='html'>If you are interested in Latin or inventing languages, then you will find this quote by Tolkien to be funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;We were listening to somebody lecturing on map-reading, or camp-hygeine, or the art of sticking a fellow through without (in defiance of Kipling) bothering who God sent the bill to; rather we were trying to avoid listening, though the Guards' English, and voice, is penetrating. The man next to me said suddenly in a dreamy voice: 'Yes, I think I shall express the accusative case by a prefix!'&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;color:#000000;"&gt;from the essay "A Secret Vice", &lt;i&gt;J.R.R. Tolkien&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-6625465976707515398?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6625465976707515398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=6625465976707515398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6625465976707515398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6625465976707515398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/tolkien-quote.html' title='Tolkien Quote'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-2188761073644146565</id><published>2007-01-16T14:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T14:59:52.597-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Failure</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Men succeed when they realize that their failures are the       preparation for their victories."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-2188761073644146565?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2188761073644146565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=2188761073644146565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2188761073644146565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2188761073644146565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/failure.html' title='Failure'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-2750383171156737745</id><published>2007-01-12T22:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T15:00:34.802-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No Pain, No Gain</title><content type='html'>"No pain, no gain."  Many would praise the author of this saying for his wisdom in recognizing that pain is neccessary before great achievements will be made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without discipline, pain, and sweat, we will fail to achieve anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we are fearful of the difficulty and pain of a task, we will tend to put it off or not give it our best effort.  Truly, this will make us slothful and lazy.  Just as a soldier must endure hardship, fear, and possibly death to accomplish his mission, so must we endure the difficulties of an action to accomplish our task.  If the soldier were not willing to endure these trials, he would fail to accomplish his mission, and maybe cause his side to lose the battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born in 1824, Stonewall Jackson lived his early life with much pain, work, and hardship.  When he was a child, both his father and mother died, causing him to be forced to live with a cruel uncle and provide for himself.  Because he went without a formal education, he had to work much harder than any other cadet at West Point.  Yet, because of his work, he was able to accomplish much in his life, including being a magnificent general in the Civil War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rudyard Kipling, speaking of his home, wrote, "Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made by singing: -- 'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because accomplishments do not come without some measure of pain, we must be ready to endure the pain if we wish to accomplish great acts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-2750383171156737745?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2750383171156737745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=2750383171156737745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2750383171156737745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2750383171156737745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/no-pain-no-gain.html' title='No Pain, No Gain'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-6999946971420498449</id><published>2007-01-06T17:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T17:33:40.153-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Bird.  It's a Plane.  No, It's...Jet-Man?</title><content type='html'>Before the Wright Brothers, man was interested in flying like a bird, but could not succeed.  Well, &lt;a href="http://www.jet-man.com/actuel_eng.html"&gt;Jet-Man&lt;/a&gt; has done the impossible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-6999946971420498449?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6999946971420498449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=6999946971420498449' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6999946971420498449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6999946971420498449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/its-bird-its-plane-no-itsjet-man.html' title='It&apos;s a Bird.  It&apos;s a Plane.  No, It&apos;s...Jet-Man?'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-7812159189258320055</id><published>2007-01-05T10:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T10:20:20.392-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Work is Play</title><content type='html'>What work I have done I have done because it has been play. If it had been work I shouldn't have done it. Who was it who said, "Blessed is the man who has found his work"? Whoever it was he had the right idea in his mind. Mark you, he says his work--not somebody else's work. The work that is really a man's own work is play and not work at all. Cursed is the man who has found some other man's work and cannot lose it. When we talk about the great workers of the world we really mean the great players of the world. The fellows who groan and sweat under the weary load of toil that they bear never can hope to do anything great. How can they when their souls are in a ferment of revolt against the employment of their hands and brains? The product of slavery, intellectual or physical, can never be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark Twain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-7812159189258320055?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/7812159189258320055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=7812159189258320055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/7812159189258320055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/7812159189258320055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/work-is-play.html' title='Work is Play'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-6584666197535153800</id><published>2007-01-03T09:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T09:56:31.629-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Humbleness in Persecution</title><content type='html'>In Athens, every free man was allowed to write the name of the person he desired to ostracize on a potsherd and drop it into an urn. An illiterate Athenian approached Aristides the Just, and asked him to write a name on the potsherd for him. Kindly, Aristides asked him what name he wanted written. The man, not recognizing Aristides, replied, "Aristides." When the startled Aristides asked the man why, he said, "I am sick and tired of hearing him called 'the Just.'" Silently, &lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;Aristides&lt;/span&gt; wrote his own name on the shard and returned it to the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aristides is praised for his wisdom and justice in every situation. In the battle of the Marathon, he gave up control of the army to Miltiades, a man whom Aristides believed was a better general. When he attempted to get a bill passed in Athens, he heard good reasons to vote against it. This caused him to speak against his own bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This anecdote teaches us that whenever we are faced with foolish persecution, we are to be humble and truthful. Our first reaction is usually anger, but it is wiser to be humble when faced with absurd charges, for that is the example Christ has given us. Although we are sinful, we are to always follow the example Christ set for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this anecdote, Aristides conveys the idea that humbleness in the face of foolish persecution is admirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we are calm and humble when absurd charges are presented against us, many people will believe the charges to be bizarre and discount them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, if we lose our temper, others will suspect that we are angry&lt;br /&gt;because the charges are true and join our prosecutor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as it is with humility in persecution, so also was it with the early Church martyrs and their persecutors. When ordered to deny Christ and worship Caesar, the martyrs, although they were going to their deaths, were humble and stayed faithful to their Savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Old Testament of Scripture, Daniel was cast into the lion's den on account of an absurd law. Yet he was humble and the Lord delivered him from his oppression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The famous German philosopher and political thinker, Ernest Moritz Arndt, said, "Only those who feel little in the eyes of God, can hope to be mighty in the eyes of man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- / message --&gt;&lt;!-- controls --&gt; After benefiting from Aristide's teaching, we must be humble, no matter what happens, even in the face of foolish persecution so that we may glorify God.                                      &lt;a href="http://www.reginacoeli.org/boards/editpost.php?do=editpost&amp;amp;p=11155" name="vB::QuickEdit::11155"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-6584666197535153800?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6584666197535153800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=6584666197535153800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6584666197535153800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6584666197535153800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2007/01/humbleness-in-persecution.html' title='Humbleness in Persecution'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-6568132581492125651</id><published>2006-12-20T16:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T16:33:17.353-06:00</updated><title type='text'>With an Airplane This Small...</title><content type='html'>Who needs cars?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PlV8WJ6N3nU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PlV8WJ6N3nU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-6568132581492125651?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6568132581492125651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=6568132581492125651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6568132581492125651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/6568132581492125651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/12/with-airplane-this-small.html' title='With an Airplane This Small...'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-782617417170194312</id><published>2006-12-12T21:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T21:28:00.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yogi Berra Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.rinkworks.com/said/yogiberra.shtml"&gt;Yogi Berra&lt;/a&gt; has some hilarious quotes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-782617417170194312?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/782617417170194312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=782617417170194312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/782617417170194312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/782617417170194312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/12/yogi-berra-quotes.html' title='Yogi Berra Quotes'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-2727691778684619635</id><published>2006-11-17T09:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T09:28:43.188-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping Your Word</title><content type='html'>Once there was an honest Roman named Marcus Atilius Regulus, a general in the First Punic Wars.  After he lost a battle with the Carthaginians and was captured, he was given a message to take to the Roman senate asking them to surrender.  He would be allowed to do this only if he promised to return to Carthage.  He took the oath and set sail for Rome.  Once he arrived, Regulus encouraged the senate not to surrender to the Carthaginians.  Sadly, he bade farewell to his family and friends and returned to Carthage, where he met the miserable death he expected.  Refusing to surrender, Rome was able to overcome Carthage and become a dominant power in the Mediterranean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regulus is praised for his brilliant leadership of the Roman people and for being true to his word and accepting death rather than being unfaithful and receiving life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result of his action, Regulus is greatly honored.  When a person honors his promises and agreements despite personal pain or loss, he is honored in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this anecdote, Regulus conveys the fact that when a man delivers his word, he is expected to keep it, even if it means the loss of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a person it true to his promises, he is respected and others are more likely to keep their promises to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By contrast, if a person is unfaithful to his promises, others learn to avoid him and refuse to make agreements with him, much less stay true to the promises given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as Regulus kept his word to Carthage, so also is it like the relationship of a child toward that of his parents.  If the child, like Regulus, acts in a trustworthy manner, the parents, like Carthage, will trust him.  Yet when the child lies to his parents, the parents will refuse to trust him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day before D-Day, General Eisenhower approached Major James Goodson of the 336 Fighter Squadron and asked him if his men could keep the German planes off the beach.  Major Goodson replied he could.  Except for two planes that were able to sneak to the beach, Maj. Goodson kept his promise despite the loss of many comrades and was honored for his work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aeshylus, the famous Greek playwright, saw the importance of sticking to your promises.  Wisely, he stated, "It is not the oath that makes us believe the man, but the man the oath."  We should all take heed of this wise teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having seen the importance of promises, we must all keep them, despite the pain in it.  Whenever we give our word, we will be expected to follow through with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-2727691778684619635?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2727691778684619635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=2727691778684619635' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2727691778684619635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/2727691778684619635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/11/keeping-your-word.html' title='Keeping Your Word'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-116355695677502908</id><published>2006-11-14T20:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.765-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Belief Behind the Plays</title><content type='html'>Football is probably the most well known word in our modern culture.  What makes this sport so popular?  Well, I thought this was interesting and decided to write about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know most people are thinking, “Why go here?  Football is fun, and that is all there is to it.”   Of course, football is enjoyable, but I believe there is something deeper here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and early twentieth century, most people were enthralled with their country, ready to go to war at the slightest insult directed against there nation.  Great stock was put in the best battle flags and best and flashiest uniforms.  This belief is called nationalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After WWII, nationalism vanished.  Angrily, citizens of the United States raged against their country when we went to war against Vietnam.  They even denounced the valiant soldiers who went to overseas to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To replace this lost patriotism, thousands supported their college football teams.  We all believe our football team represents our state or city, so we enthusiastically support our team and, of course, are extremely disappointed when they lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone found this paper thought provoking.  I certainly had fun writing it.  And remember, go Sooners!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-116355695677502908?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/116355695677502908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=116355695677502908' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116355695677502908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116355695677502908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/11/belief-behind-plays.html' title='Belief Behind the Plays'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-116285901333712838</id><published>2006-11-06T18:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.699-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Right on the Money</title><content type='html'>“The things that will destroy America are prosperity at any price, peace at any price, safety first instead of duty first and love of soft living and the get-rich-quick theory of life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theodore Roosevelt&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-116285901333712838?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/116285901333712838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=116285901333712838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116285901333712838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116285901333712838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/11/right-on-money.html' title='Right on the Money'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-116266752047743481</id><published>2006-11-04T13:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.639-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Life Unexaimined is not Worth Living</title><content type='html'>Socrates, the famous Greek philosopher, once said, "A life which is unexamined is not worth living."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socrates is praised for his statement because he taught law, politics, and philosophy to the youth of Athens.  Despite all this, he still found time to develop the principles of logic that we still use today.  Many people also praise the fact that Socrates drank a cup of poison rather than be banished under false charges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this famous piece of advice, Socrates is attempting to convey the fact that we need to take a good, hard look at ourselves.  Carefully, we should examine our faults, strengths, weaknesses, and character, and if we do not, our lives are not worth living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because our only purpose in life is to glorify God, we must not only examine our lives for sin, we need to see how we can better serve Christ.  If we do not, we will not realize that we are sinners and will fail to serve the Redeemer.  If we examine our lives and find sin, we will come to rely on Christ for our salvation and have eternal life in the fellowship of the Creator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it is when you buy a car, you carefully examine the engine, tires, accessories, and cost to see if it suits your needs and to see if there are problems with the the car, so must you examine your life to search for sins.  If you fail to examine the car, you may find it inconvenient, and it might be potentially dangerous, just like if you fail to examine your life, you might find yourself in a dangerous spiritual state, and your life might not be worth living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Washington, the first President of the United States, examined himself tirelessly to see how he could better improve himself.  Immersing himself in Scripture, Washington was slowly conformed to the image of Christ.  Because of this, he was a faithful Christian and lived a life definitely worth living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Paul tells us, in 2 Corinthians 13:5, "Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wisely, Socrates gives us the lesson that we should examine our lives for sin.  If we do not, we might as well not live it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-116266752047743481?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/116266752047743481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=116266752047743481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116266752047743481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116266752047743481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/11/life-unexaimined-is-not-worth-living.html' title='The Life Unexaimined is not Worth Living'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-116190658306186607</id><published>2006-10-26T18:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.581-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Churchill Quotes</title><content type='html'>Although prepared for martyrdom, I preferred that it be postponed.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on, ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which I will not put.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am prepared to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill&lt;br /&gt;(Someone needs to get their theology right.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Russia is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery.&lt;br /&gt;Winston Churchill&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-116190658306186607?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/116190658306186607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=116190658306186607' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116190658306186607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116190658306186607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/10/churchill-quotes.html' title='Churchill Quotes'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-116183162127086939</id><published>2006-10-25T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.520-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Faithful, but Succesful</title><content type='html'>Sorry that I have not posted in a while.  I have been very busy.  I will post more often now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother Teresa once said that God did not call her to be successful, but to be faithful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother Teresa is respected for these words because of her long years as a missionary worker and for aiding the poor in India, America, Ethiopia, Albania, and many other nations.  During her life, she always attempted to be faithful to God's plan for her while denying wealth and comfort for herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she said these words, Mother Teresa meant that God did not necessarily want her to be successful in her work, but that He wanted her to obey His commands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, God wants us to obey all His commandments without question, even if it means offending others and not being profitable in the world's eyes.  God wants us to obey because we are born again in Christ, and because of the finished work of Christ, we will go to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, if we aim to be prosperous in life, we often are unfaithful to God.  If we do not believe in Christ, and we do not reflect Him in our lives, we will be sent to eternal punishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A soldier does not help win a war through personal achievements and glory, he helps win it through obeying orders and working with the squad.  Although he is on the front lines, the soldier does not know the whole strategy like the commanding general does.  Similarly, we do not know the entire plan God has for us in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faithfully, Polycarp, an early church father, died rather than deny Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theodore Roosevelt, the former President of the United States, learned this lesson well.  "It is better to be faithful than to be successful," he passionately declared.  Roosevelt was one of America's best presidents, along with being a strong and faithful Christian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Mother Teresa's actions and words, she taught us that we should obey God's word without seeking to be successful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-116183162127086939?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/116183162127086939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=116183162127086939' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116183162127086939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/116183162127086939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/10/not-faithful-but-succesful.html' title='Not Faithful, but Succesful'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-115549456024682755</id><published>2006-08-13T13:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.462-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First Bass on a Jig</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/640/PICT0217.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/320/PICT0217.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-115549456024682755?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/115549456024682755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=115549456024682755' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115549456024682755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115549456024682755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/08/first-bass-on-jig.html' title='First Bass on a Jig'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-115472060137991626</id><published>2006-08-04T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.291-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Latin Quips</title><content type='html'>"Brevis esse laboro obscurus fio."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When I try to be brief, I speak gobbledegook."&lt;br /&gt;Horace, Ars Poetica, 25&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how he feels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-115472060137991626?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/115472060137991626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=115472060137991626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115472060137991626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115472060137991626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/08/latin-quips.html' title='Latin Quips'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-115401993297003554</id><published>2006-07-27T11:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.235-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ones That Did Not Get Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/640/PICT0111.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/320/PICT0111.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This first picture is of me with a king salmon I caught in Alaska.  It weighed fifteen pounds.  Not huge as king salmon go, but it put up a huge fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second picture is of me with a German Brown trout I caught in Montana on the Bighorn River.  &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/640/PICT0082.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/320/PICT0082.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-115401993297003554?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/115401993297003554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=115401993297003554' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115401993297003554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115401993297003554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/07/ones-that-did-not-get-away.html' title='The Ones That Did Not Get Away'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-115384427413161298</id><published>2006-07-25T11:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.107-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lion in Love</title><content type='html'>Here is one of my writing assignments that I wrote during the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lion in Love &lt;br /&gt;By J. Hunter Quinn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once there was a lion that was in love with a woodcutter’s daughter.  In his mouth, the lion had razor sharp teeth that glistened in the sun.  A fluffy, golden mane adorned his neck, making him look fearless.  Adding to his grand appearance was his sleek, glossy coat.  Beneath his kingly body were his velvety paws that produced no sound when he stalked in the woods, yet his claws made a clicking sound when he walked among stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woodcutter was a tall, leathery man, his face having deep creases in them from years of difficult labor.  His arms had scars from axe wounds and collapsing trees.  Although his hands were calloused, they had a gentle feel to them.  His legs were thin, an odd contrast to his extremely wide feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After his wife died, the woodcutter had dedicated his life to his daughter.  Observers would watch him work from dawn to dusk in an attempt to provide for her.  He rarely did anything that was not for his daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite this, the woodcutter did care for crippled animals.  He would provide for their needs until they were well once more.  When his house was not full of animals, the woodcutter would provide for strangers who needed a place to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nestled in a forest clearing was the woodcutter’s hut, consisting of bamboo stems cleverly weaved together.  A small pond was situated right next to the hut, willow trees dangling their stems into the water as if wanting a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approaching the woodcutter, the lion said with a roar, “I would like to court your daughter!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terrified, the woodcutter thought to himself, “After driving off other rouge suitors, why should I let this monster court my daughter?”  Suddenly, he thought of a plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Certainly,” replied the woodcutter.  “You can only if you take out your teeth and claws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that evening, the lion came back toothless and clawless.  Then, he demanded the daughter for his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woodcutter, no longer afraid, and having said he would only allow the lion to court his daughter, drove off the lion with a stick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-115384427413161298?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/115384427413161298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=115384427413161298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115384427413161298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/115384427413161298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/07/lion-in-love.html' title='The Lion in Love'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-114308464999285168</id><published>2006-03-22T20:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:26.038-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Humble Pride</title><content type='html'>Pride is an extremely deadly sin.  Despite what you may think, we are all guilty of this outrageous crime.  If you think about it, pride leads to most of the sins we commit.  We lie because we do not want others to think badly about us because we have sinned.  When we cheat, we do so because we think we deserve to win. Thinking we deserve anything leads to selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C.S. Lewis says that if you desperately want to know how prideful you really are, ponder on how much you hate being ignored.  The more you hate being snubbed, the prouder you are.  Why?  There is one reason: pride is a gigantic power struggle.  Whoever is better than you, richer than you, or more powerful than you is your sworn enemy.  Sadly, the realization dawns upon us that we are filled to the bursting point with pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, the opposite of pride is humility.  Recognizing this fact, many people enjoy trumpeting the fact that they are the most humble of men.  Well, the truth is, they are not humble people, they are just disguising their pride as humility.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister watches the movie Pride and Prejudice all the time.  The movie was based on the book written by Jane Austen about a girl named Elizabeth who despises a man by the name of Mr. Darcy because of his pride.  After many events, Elizabeth finds herself liking Mr. Darcy more and more.  Because you might want to watch the movie or read the book, I will not give the ending away.  Yet I wanted to point out that there is a character by the name of Mr. Collins.  He was a very silly fellow, but he was always remarking how humble he was.  Despite his ramblings, he was always complementing himself, which immediately reveals how proud he really was.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However hard it may be, we must recognize the fact that we are miserable sinners in need of a Savior.  Without God’s divine help, we will never be able to recognize just how sinful we are.  Let us pray that God will take away are self-conceit and pride and give us humility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-114308464999285168?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/114308464999285168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=114308464999285168' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/114308464999285168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/114308464999285168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/03/humble-pride.html' title='Humble Pride'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-113969500932253068</id><published>2006-02-11T15:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:25.977-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Stringer Fish</title><content type='html'>A breath of chilly air blew against me.  As I pulled my coat tighter against me, I surveyed the lake.  “I can’t believe that the trout can survive in this muddy water,” I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pond had been stocked with trout a week before.  I could hardly contain my joy when my friend had called and asked if I would like to go fishing at this pond.  Before I got off the phone, I was already dreaming of a sizzling dinner of rainbow trout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the day arrived to go fishing, I packed up my tackle box and went to join my friend.  Once I arrived, I was shocked at the size of the pond.  It was not even an acre!  Yet all these doubts of the quality of the pond dispersed when I saw people catch one trout after another.  Across the pond, one gentleman hauled in six trout in half an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I rigged up a Thunder Bug, I happened to glance at the water.  To my complete surprise, I saw a trout within an arms lenghth away from me.  To further this phenomenon of this wary fish coming so close, it had a stringer coming through its gill!  I decided that he was not going to escape the dinner table.  Cautiously, I stretched my hand out into the water.  I cringed at the icy cold temperature of the muddy water.  Suddenly, the trout began to swim away.  With despair in my mind, I made one last attempt to catch this fish.  Leaning as far out as I dared, I was able to grasp the stringer and haul the fish out of the water.  Relief flooded over me as I looked at my catch with victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a victory picture, I put the trout in the ice chest, which doubled as a live well. Despite the fact that my I did not catch another trout that day, and my friend beating me two to one, I had a lot of fun.  As the sun set, my friend and I packed up our belongings and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought to myself that I was willing to spend any amount of time out on the water to catch a single fish after this hard fishing winter.  Then, it hit me that I still had the job of cleaning the fish, and this was to be my first time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-113969500932253068?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/113969500932253068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=113969500932253068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113969500932253068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113969500932253068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/02/stringer-fish.html' title='A Stringer Fish'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-113893968520350514</id><published>2006-02-02T21:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:25.795-06:00</updated><title type='text'>President vs. Emperor</title><content type='html'>If you ask the average person if they would rather be the president of a democracy or the emperor of an empire, many people would say they would like total power for themselves and so would choose to be emperor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you pressed them for reasons, they would say that they would like to make the world a better place.  Sadly, they think that they have the ability to make the world perfect.  Yet, as you contemplate human nature, you would realize that nobody is perfect nor has the ability to make the world perfect.  Without a doubt, they would begin their jobs with good intentions, but most of the times power will corrupt them and their own ego blind them to the sinfulness of their actions.  Paul says in Romans that “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”  Jesus constantly points out that no one is perfect and will not do anything good without God’s help.  An example of the sinfulness of man is the invention of the plane.  In their minds, the Wright brothers both thought that their invention would put an end to war.  Looking back to other wars, we can see that the plane only broadened the destructive scale of them.  The atomic bomb was only made possible with the use of the plane.  As you can see, human motives and power are corrupted by sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good thing about a democracy and a republic is that power is not placed in the hands of a single human being.  This balance of power prevents anybody from having his own way.  Without a doubt, his intentions might be good, but the foolishness of the idea might be clouded by his own views of his own self-worth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you are asked the question if you were to be an emperor or a president, and which would you choose, think of the sinfulness of man and choose to be a president.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-113893968520350514?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/113893968520350514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=113893968520350514' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113893968520350514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113893968520350514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/02/president-vs-emperor.html' title='President vs. Emperor'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-113893653393943971</id><published>2006-02-02T21:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:25.735-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here is one of my poems I wrote for school. I was extremely happy with it when I read it aloud to myself. I decided to share it online. Here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tales of the Sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winding down the green valley,&lt;br /&gt;Flowed a brook that ran to sea,&lt;br /&gt;Sang it did a merry song,&lt;br /&gt;While I sat there all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tales of wonder it told me,&lt;br /&gt;Of the glories of the sea.&lt;br /&gt;Tales of mermaids and mermen,&lt;br /&gt;Playing in their watery den.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly ended that fair day,&lt;br /&gt;When I quickly walked away,&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts passed through my sunburned head,&lt;br /&gt;Of the day that lay ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- J. Hunter Quinn&lt;br /&gt;-Copyright Pending-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-113893653393943971?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/113893653393943971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=113893653393943971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113893653393943971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113893653393943971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/02/here-is-one-of-my-poems-i-wrote-for.html' title=''/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-113884294529712630</id><published>2006-02-01T19:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:25.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/1600/P4090071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2145/2207/320/P4090071.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned over and glanced at the clock.  It read 3:30.  I sighed and thought, “One more hour to go.”  I lay in the dark attempting to sleep till the long expected moment- 4:30 a.m.  In the bed beside me, I could hear my grandfather stirring restlessly, awaiting the same thing.  The minutes seemed to tick slowly by; one minute seeming like a life time.  Then, when I was just about to pass into dream land, I heard the long expecting noise- RING, RING, RING!  Finally, the wake-up call.  I leapt out of bed and hurriedly got dressed.  My grandfather, with the same excited actions, got up and began to shave.  Once we were all ready, we loaded up the car and drove to the nearest Love’s.  What would possibly make us get up so early?  That would require one simple explanation- the turkey hunting obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stopping at Love’s, we bought a few doughnuts, batteries, ice, and some tape.  Happy with our purchases, (especially the doughnuts) we headed out to the hunting lease.  Arriving at the gate, we got out and just stood there for a moment, soaking in the delicious coolness of the winter night and gazing at the stars.  When we decided that that was enough site-seeing, we undid the gate and drove on through.  Driving down the gravel road, I strained my eyes to see of there was any wildlife.  Beside the cows and a single mouse, we did not see anything.  We parked the truck and my grandfather handed me the shotguns, to which I held on for dear life.  We quietly walked until we found the hunting blind.  The dead stillness of the woods made everything a bit creepy.  Crawling into the blind, we sat and waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a tree beside us, an owl began to hoot.  I listened and wandered to myself what the owl could possibly be hooting for.  Then I sat up stiff, for I had heard the long, mournful howl of a coyote.  I chuckled to myself, wandering why in the world the noise frightened me.  As the minutes to dawn approached, I strained my ears to hear the desired call, the turkey tree yelp.  Finally, after forty-five minutes of waiting, I heard it, the soft call of a hen echoing through the forest.  Ten minutes later, as the horizon began to grow light, the roost, which we had staked out the day before, exploded with the calls of wild turkeys.  Slowly, one by one, the turkeys began to fly down from their roost, landing in the field in front of us.  I knew that any moment now the turkeys would begin to walk towards the feeder (in Texas it is legal to shoot a turkey at the feeder).  My teeth chattering with excitement, I watched as the turkeys began to approach the feeder.  I scanned the flock to see if there were any good sized toms within the group.  To my disappointment, there were none to be seen, just hens and jakes.  The flock of about thirty warily approached the feeder.  Looking about them and seeing nothing, they rushed all at once to the feeder.  I slowly raised my gun up to my shoulder and picked out a nice sized hen.  I took aim and waited for her to raise her head.  I waited and waited, and not once did she raise her head.  Suddenly, I heard my grandfather fire three shots.  The quiet scene before me exploded in wings, feathers, and yelps.  When the scene cleared, I saw three hens struggling on the ground.  My grandfather and I jumped up and collected the turkeys.  After tagging them, we crawled into the blind and waited awhile longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 8:30 a.m., I began to grow discouraged, thinking we wouldn’t see any more.  Then, across the field, I saw four turkeys warily walking across the field towards the feeder.  They stopped frequently, stretching their necks looking for any signs of danger.  My grandfather had gotten his limit, so I had these birds all to myself.  As the birds drew nearer, I saw that all of them were toms, BIG toms.  I shifted by gun up to my shoulder and waited.  When the toms reached thirty-four yards, they stopped and eyed the feeder and the blind suspiciously.  I could tell that they saw me and were just about to run for it.  So, with my adrenaline pumping through my body and my blood as hot as a red fire poker, I picked out the biggest one, looked down the barrel at his stretched out neck, and pulled the trigger.  I was blinded for a moment by the smoke, which quickly cleared.  I let down the gun, and to my complete excitement, saw the bird flopping where he dropped.  I rushed out of the blind to look at him.  He sported a six inch beard and half inch spurs.  I was extremely excited, but that goes without saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather and I both decided to call it quits.  So, after plenty of pictures and the messy process of cleaning the turkeys, we loaded up the truck and headed down to the local restraunt to eat lunch.  We both had an excellent time and look forward to the next hunting trip, when the obsession calls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-113884294529712630?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/113884294529712630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=113884294529712630' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113884294529712630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113884294529712630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/02/obsession.html' title='The Obsession'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-113884284057330500</id><published>2006-02-01T19:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:25.593-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfy Communism</title><content type='html'>During the last few weeks, I have been studying communism.  I have noticed that during the Cold War, many of the government officials were relatively light on communism.  For instance, during World War II, Stalin, the leader of the USSR, insisted that the U.S. and Britain should open up a Northwest front to take the pressure of the war off him.  It is pretty easy to see why he would say this.  Constantly thinking of his own power, he wanted all of Eastern Europe for Russia.  He knew that communism would flourish in these poverty-stricken nations.  Churchill, ever wary of Stalin, pleaded with Roosevelt to invade Greece, preventing Russia from having a monopoly.  Sadly, Roosevelt, not wanting to disappoint a fellow socialist, decided to invade Northwestern Europe, dooming many people to a life of misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is communism?  Well, communism is a long-hoped-for Utopia where the state runs a perfect society.  Because man is sinful, Christians know that this will never be possible until Christ returns.  Communism is the eventual end of socialism.  Webster’s dictionary defines socialism as “Any of various theories or systems of social organization in which the means of producing and distributing goods is owned collectively or by a centralized government that often plans and controls the economy.”  Even more chilling, the second definition says “The stage in Marxist-Leninist theory intermediate between capitalism and communism, in which collective ownership of the economy under the dictatorship of the proletariat has not yet been successively achieved.”  After reading the second definition, you might make the connection that the American government strangely matches up with the second definition.  The American government is slowly gaining more control over people’s lives.  Many laws interfere with the family responsibility of raising up and training their children.  Christian’s who homeschool their children are constantly under government pressure.  In California, a school was going to hold a seminar on intelligent design of the universe.  Yet under legal pressure, was forced to cancel it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you do a little bit of studying and reading, you can see that many people are sacrificing their freedom for safety and comfort.  When we get rid of our freedom, we give it to the government, which in turn has more control over our lives.  As Christians, we need to make sure we do not give up our freedom to worship God in exchange for our own comfort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-113884284057330500?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/113884284057330500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=113884284057330500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113884284057330500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113884284057330500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/02/comfy-communism.html' title='Comfy Communism'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21787017.post-113884254750488003</id><published>2006-02-01T19:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T20:17:25.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Monster of Yourself</title><content type='html'>Have you ever read the books &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Frankenstein&lt;/span&gt;?  If you have, you will have found that there are some very interesting comparisons between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will begin with the book &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0553212478/ref=sib_dp_pt/002-6299731-7447266#reader-link"&gt;Frankenstein by Mary Shelley&lt;/a&gt;.  In this book, Shelley tells the tale of the Dr. Frankenstein who discovers how to create life out of non-life.  He creates a monster out of dead body parts.  After he creates him and the monster comes alive, Frankenstein flees in horror.  He hears nothing of the monster’s whereabouts for two years, until the murder of his brother.  In frantic horror, Frankenstein is convinced that the murder is the monster.  Several months later, he meets the monster, who tells him his tale.  The monster sadly explains how he was good and perfect until society corrupted him.  He asks Frankenstein to create a female partner for him.  Angrily, Frankenstein refuses.  After several complicated events, Frankenstein’s whole family ends up getting murdered by the monster.  At the end of the story, when the doctor’s death occurs, the monster blames his behavior on society, which treated him cruelly, breeding hatred for his creator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the book &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0486266885/ref=sib_dp_pt/002-6299731-7447266#reader-link"&gt;The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson&lt;/a&gt;, Stevenson writes of a well-to-do doctor by the name of Henry Jekyll.  Dr. Jekyll is obsessed with the idea of taking the wicked part of a person and the righteous part of a person and turning them into to separate beings.  After some difficult research, Dr. Jekyll concocts a potion that can separate these two characters of man.  Greedily, Jekyll drinks it, and instead of becoming a righteous being liked he hoped, he created the purely wicked Mr. Hyde.  Dr. Jekyll is thrilled with the outcome and drinks the potion a second time and returns to the form of Dr. Jekyll.  Realizing he could go freely between his to forms, Jekyll dons the form of Hyde to do wicked deeds.  One night, Hyde murders a famous Member of Parliament.  When Hyde returns to the form of Jekyll, he vows never again to become Hyde.  Yet after a few months, he becomes Hyde without the potion and stays Hyde.  Frantically, Dr. Jekyll realizes that he is not able to return to the form of Jekyll.  When the law finds out Mr. Hyde is hiding in Jekyll’s room, they go in pursuit of him.  Sadly, the tale ends with Dr. Jekyll committing suicide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the two books, you will find two worldviews being presented.  The worldview of Frankenstein tells us that man is basically good, yet was corrupted by society.  The worldview of Hyde proclaims that man is a sinful, fallen creature.  As you study history and the Bible, you will see many examples of sinfulness.  Pure logic tells us that man is wicked and in need of a savior.  The good news is that we have been purchased by the blood of Christ.  The Hyde worldview begins with the bad news that man is sinful, yet it ends with the good news that we are saved.  The Frankenstein worldview says that man is good and is corrupted by society.  If all is left to man, then we should have shivers to the marrow of our bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, which monster lives within you, the basically good monster, corrupted by society, of Frankenstein, or the monster of Hyde, sinful, yet saved?  Decide for yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21787017-113884254750488003?l=jhunterquinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/feeds/113884254750488003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21787017&amp;postID=113884254750488003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113884254750488003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21787017/posts/default/113884254750488003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jhunterquinn.blogspot.com/2006/02/monster-of-yourself.html' title='The Monster of Yourself'/><author><name>J. Hunter Quinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16218928106516840390</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
