Monday, April 23, 2012

April 23: "Carol" Dipping, Creating a Final, Nervous Answer

As always, I will do a Carol dip this twenty-third day of April, Monday, in the year of our Lord 2012.  I do this simply because my brain doesn't fire on all pistons on the first day of the work week.  It's easier simply to come up with a life question, and then let Charles Dickens do the rest of the work.  My only job is to interpret the answer I receive.  I don't know why, but I get nervous about these random responses from the book of Carol.  As if they really mean anything or hold any power over my future.  I just hate gloomy, negative prospects.  Even when I was a kid, I would shake the Magic 8 Ball until it gave me the answer I wanted.

Before I shake the Magic 8 Ball this morning, however, I just wanted to share my agenda for today.  The most important task I have to complete is creating the final exam for my mythology class.  It shouldn't take too long, but I hate the whole process.  I don't like trying to design a test that basically demonstrates two things.  First, how much my students have learned/not learned during the second half of the semester.  Second, how effective/ineffective I was as a teacher during the second half of the semester.  Obviously, these two factors are very closely related.

Now that I have that off my chest, I will move forward with my question for the Christmas Spirits this early a.m.:

Will I ever win the Nobel Prize in Literature?  (Hey, I might as well go for the gold.)

And my answer from A Christmas Carol is:

The cold became intense.  In the main street at the corner of the court, some labourers were repairing the gas-pipes, and had lighted a great fire in a brazier, round which a party of ragged men and boys were gathered:  warming their hands and winking their eyes before the blaze in rapture.

Well, I like the scene being described.  In the face of glacial deprivation, a bright beacon of warmth shines forth.  Like moths to a candle, people gather around this flame, warming themselves, finding pleasure in its nascent greatness. 

Yes, Virginia, there will be a Nobel Prize in your future.  Your literary genius will not be denied by the world.  Young and old alike will celebrate your fame and talent in rapture.  In a cold, dark world, you will be a source of hope and light.

Saint Marty better start working on his acceptance speech.

I gotta get a copy of this book

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