Ricky goes by many names. 

Pretty Ricky.

Slick Rick.

Rad Rick.

But he's known best by one name: Tricky Ricky!

Tricky Ricky feels pretty funny when he tricks his classmates. 

The teacher wanted to staple Super Student Work on the Super Scholar Board.

But Tricky Ricky hid the stapler in his backpack. 

Then someone said, "Hey!  I saw Tricky Ricky put the stapler in his backpack!"

"Triiiiicky Riiiiicky!" The class groaned. 

Tricky Ricky missed a day of school to see the doctor. 

But he told his classmates he spent the day hunting on an African Safari. 

Then someone said, "Hey!  I was at the doctor too, and I saw Tricky Ricky getting a shot."

"Triiiiiicky Riiiicky!" The class groaned. 

That night Tricky Ricky's stomach felt icky.

Even though the Tricky Ricky loved that everyone knew his name....

... he felt icky when people called him tricky. 

I want to figure out how to change my name, thought tricky Ricky. 

But he had no idea how.  So he hopped on his skateboard and sped around the block. 

It was dark, and he didn't see the neighbor's cat.... CRASH!!!

The next day, Ricky came to school with bandages all over his arms and legs.

"What happened to Tricky Ricky?" all the students asked. 

"Ricky, what happened to your legs and arms?" the teacher asked. 

At first, Ricky offered no reply. 

The students grew impatient, "Did you get attacked by a lion? Were you mauled by a bear?"

"Quiet, quiet," the teacher pleaded, "let him speak." 
 
Ricky dropped his backpack and stood up straight.

"I thought I might tell you a tall tale.  A big story that bragged about my bravery." 

But instead I'll tell you the truth.  And he told them what happened.

"I ran over a cat and fell to the ground.  The cat got scared and scratched my arms and legs."

Ricky looked at the quiet class.  They didn't know what to think. 

And then the students said...

-Mike

I went to Barnes and Noble today, not looking for anything in particular but just looking.  And lo and behold I found something.  Black Sabbath's album, Paranoid.  It's a great disk with 3 songs I really like: Iron Man, Paranoid, and War Pigs. 

I was at Barnes and Noble today because my wife is out of town this weekend and I was trying to keep myself busy.

Today I ran three miles with the dog, read Albert Camus in a coffee shop, bought the Black Sabbath album, had delicious tuna salad sandwhich for lunch, did two loads of laundry (and the ironing), swept our back porch, planted some flowers in containers, took Buddy to the dog park where he played with his best friend Rogue, and just watched Scorcese's 1991 film Cape Fear.  And it's only 8:40pm, and I don't know what else to do with myself. 

My two unaccomplished goals for the day involve buying food: 1) cheesecake and 2) American Deli chicken wings.  But I feel like I've purchased enough this weekend already.

I could watch another movie and fall asleep early.  Or I could read my book and fall asleep.  But I'm already feeling a little low and reading more about The Plague might bring me down.  Maybe I'll find another book from the shelf and settle in.  Come to think of it, that sounds like a damn good plan. And I'll take with me my little German friend by the name of Wheat-Dunkel. 

-Mike

I took a bath this evening, which I tend to do when I have a free hour and I smell bad. 

And when I bathe I often bring a friend.  Tonight it was Albert Camus and his Plague.  In this book, plague is not a metaphor.  It is a literal plague.  Pus, sores, buboes, death.  The town now is under quarantine -- no one comes in, no one gets out.   

At some point during any story about an epidemic, there needs to be a horribly self-righteous preacher who proclaims the current calamity as God's punishment on the wicked.  The chapter I read in the bath included just such a character.  Imagine Pat Robertson in a 1950s French Village. 

One thought that came to mind after I read this chapter was how there really aren't as many prominent, national, religious figures these days who make outrageous claims of this nature.  I know that's not an empirical statement, and I know there are plenty of people out there who think this way.  But it seems like that, as a nation, we are quick to point out how absolutely ridiculous it is when Pat Robertson or others make these kinds of statements.  We respond quickly because it's offensive and mean-spirited.  To proclaim the suffering of others to be self-inflicted is just cruel.  God causes bad things happen to bad people because of their bad deeds.  The Pat Robertson doctrine, in a nutshell.  If a bad thing happened, it's because God caused it in response to your bad deeds. 

But do we find the converse situation to be similarly offensive?  God causes good things happen to good people because of their good deeds.  If a good thing happened, it's because God caused it in response to your good deeds.  If you know me, you know that I've spent a long time thinking about this issue.  I even wrote my senior paper on it.  And the problem is: I don't think you can truly believe the second statement without also agreeing with the first.  The second statement is agreeable, generally, because it's about people getting what they deserve in a good way.  The first is mean because it's about people getting what they deserve in a punitive, final, and disproportionate way.

Anyways, I was thinking about this again today.

-Mike