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Every so often, the tension inherent in life stretches to a breaking point, and there needs to be some kind of release, or we become neurotic. This is not to say that we don’t all have our little neuroses as it is, but that the danger of complete insanity is real, if we are unable to deal with its day-to-day precursors. Typically, my way of dealing, my way of massaging the strained muscles of my insipid humanity so that they do not snap, is to write music. Oftentimes the music will flow directly from whatever [exaggerated] angst I am experiencing, and at other times will have no obvious correlation to it. In either case it seems that the mere act of creation restores some balance, allows me to press on with whatever mundanities I am slogging through and leave behind thoughts of going postal. In other words, I am not an artist frivolously, nor am I an artist on weekends or just when it is convenient or popular–I am an artist because I need creation to live. It really is food for my soul. ...

Last monday, the news came: the doctors had given up hope for Nick’s dad, and recommended that Nick and his family stay by his hospital bed during the night, so that they could be with him in his last moments on earth. I was in a small group meeting with a handful of other guys when Nick called us–some of Nick’s closest companions here at Stanford. We went through a range of emotions between the seven of us; mine were primarily frustration and anger at God for deciding not to grant our longtime requests of healing. ...

Tonight, for the first time in my 3.2-yr college career, I studied in a library. This may sound strange and obviously or necessarily false, but it is most assuredly true. Perhaps the most interesting part, however, is that I really can’t think of any reasons why it is true. Somewhere along the line, I guess, I realized, “Hey, I’ve never gone to the library to study like all my friends do.” This must have been the end of freshman or sophomore year. ...

Welcome to my new home! Please feel free to have a look around and check out the changes I’ve made to the site. Also, feel free to leave some comments with impressions about the design or anything else. Finally, sit back as I relate the answer to your deepest, most burning question: “Why does that silly Jonathan Lipps need a new blog design every few months?” Well, the short of it is, after a year and a half with Blogger, I decided that our relationship really wasn’t working out anymore. Now enter Movable Type, with whom I flirted earlier this summer in helping Jason to re-make his weblog. Since then, I’ve been dreaming of switching over myself, and have just been waiting for the perfect opportunity. ...

the past few weeks have been so indigestably full of innumerable activities, there’s no way i can relate most of what’s happened recently. but that’s ok, since neither you nor i would care to read about it anyway. the short of it is i am back at stanford amidst the busiest quarter of my career (so far). i’ve got classes more or less settled on, and enough homework to make me procrastinate. but like i said, that’s not really interesting. ...

it’s been a good summer, but it’s time for it to end. yesterday i went through with my annual ritual of going to cocoa beach alone in the morning before the start of fall quarter. the past 3 years it’s been a brief moment of peace and relaxation within which i can focus and ask for god’s blessing on the coming year. this year was no different, and i feel as prepared as ever (which, incidentally, is not very prepared) for autumn quarter. ...

oh yeah, i’m going to england for a week! see you later.

every day at work, i go into the break room, on average, three or four times. usually it’s to refill my 16-ounce styrofoam cup with the refreshing, ice cold water from the cooler. other times it might be to cook up a delicious rice bowl (“poke through plastic cover. microwave on high for 5 minutes. let stand for 1 minute. for best flavor, stir before eating”). i’ll even make the occasional cup of coffee. ...

altimar is this weekend. now, in fact. altimar. AL-tih-mar (or, optionally, AL-tuh-mar). it’s a word to strike awe into the hearts of all who hear it. it is a good word, and it betokens connotations of sun, sand, and the beauty of friendship. of course, it is a made up word (one which, however, has entered into quite common usage in some circles). some might think that it is derived from the latin/spanish “alt”, signifying height or tallness or greatness. others might think that the phoneme “mar” is likewise derived from latin/spanish, and must therefore impart information about the sea. given the fact that altimar is indeed great/awesome, and given its necessary connection to the ocean, these etymological guesses would seem to be right on. unfortunately, they are wrong. “altimar” is derived from no previously existing words and relies neither on any for its meaning. ...

[note: this text is compiled from charred fragments of the extraordinary diary of an english expatriate gentleman, monsieur roger choltham, who perished from the earth, along with his house and possessions, in 1749. his residence in the countryside near avignon caught flame in the middle of the night on july 31st and burned nearly to the ground. because of the distance at which mssr. choltham lived from the nearest villages, the tragedy was not noticed until the following day, as is chronicled in sorgues’ town log. all the people from these villages wondered at the event, just as they had always wondered what the englishman’s business was in france. none, however, felt the need to mourn choltham’s passing, for he had been somewhat of a recluse, living without matron or maid or heir in his house, which could better have been called a mansion. and besides, his french was not so good. a cursory search was made of the debris before the property was cleared and auctioned to one mssr. desruisseaux, who had always thought it a shame choltham had let the fields about his house lay fallow. choltham’s body was never found, but this is the nature of fires. as for the diary, it was burned in a very curious fashion, such that all entries before what appears to be the last, july 25th, disintegrated upon touch, but july 25th itself was preserved with little damage. it is presented here, reconstructed where necessary by myself and my colleagues at oxford. - N. Rochinauld, ed.] ...