Wow. I just had to share some of these pictures. I've been fascinated with the idea of space exploration and astronomy ever since I was a bespectacled preteen; stellar anomalies, quasars, and black holes always seemed to make more sense than girls, after all . . . plus, growing up in the dark unindustrial flatness of agri-rural West Tennessee allowed me phenonmenal opportunities to look up at the stars unimpeded by little things like pollution, or trees.

These are photos from the Cassini-Huygens NASA mission to Saturn and Titan.

This first photo shows Saturn as we never see it, at the edge of its rings:


Photo two shows the three moons Dione, Tethys and Pandora:


Photo three shows the icy moon Dione near Saturn itself:


Photo four shows the small Hyperion satellite that is actually located in the rings of Saturn:


And, finally, photo five shows an approach angle to the planet.

I hope you take a minute to browse the excellent multimedia images found on the NASA website.

--

Here's the kind of world we live in.

The lovely [name withheld], to whom I have been married for seven wonderful years, has DELETED FOREVER her blog, because of 1.) odd spam, and 2.) creepy comments by even creepier commenters.

(P.S. -- You know who you are, and I swear if I find you, I'm beating the [deleted] out of your [deleted][deleted], you [deleted][deleted] of a [deleted].)

Ahem. I'm just trying to be forceful, yet remain employed.

In other news, should anyone else feel the urge to express themselves to the lovely [name withheld], or should they feel the need to somehow fish for personal information, or feel some need to commit identity theft, feel free to contact ME instead via e-mail:

phil.bredesen@state.tn.us

Have a blessed day.

Do you have the same kinds of friends that I do?

I seem to have surrounded myself with the Ambrose Bierce bunch; those cynical, biting wits who like nothing better than to skewer the stupidity that's so easy to find on the internet. I received an e-mail just the other day from a friend of mine who linked me to a highly entertaining "bible thumping" website that had the most hilarious denouncements of the Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, and modern culture that I had just about ever read. To wit:

The Mormon movement began with "the prophet" Joseph Smith, Jr. in the year 1820. Joe (as he was known) was born to some rather strange parents in 1805. His mother, Lucy, was involved in occult practices and visions, while his father, Joseph, Sr., consumed much time with imaginary treasure digging (including the booty of Captain Kidd).

According to Mormon writings (Pearl of Great Price, Joseph Smith - History 1:1-25), on a day in 1820, Joe was praying in the woods when he received a "vision" from God the Father and Jesus. It was "revealed" to Joe that the church was in "apostasy" and he was "the chosen one" to launch a new "dispensation."

Being unwilling to drop his current occupation of money-digging with his father (while using "peep stones" and "divining rods"), Joe put his "calling" on hold for three years. Then, according to his own account (Pearl of Great Price, Joseph Smith - History 1:29-54), he was paid a bedside "visit" by the "angel" Moroni in 1823.

Do you get the "feeling" that this "person" doesn't "like" the "Mormons"?

My laugh reflex wasn't ready for this, though: Santa, is Satan. Why? It's obvious, really.

SANTA LIVES IN THE NORTH
Tradition holds that Santa Claus lives at the North Pole, a place ABOVE the rest of us.

JESUS CHRIST LIVES IN THE NORTH
"Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King." (Psa. 48:2)

SANTA WEARS RED CLOTHING
Santa wears a red furry suit.

JESUS CHRIST WEARS RED CLOTHING
"And he was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood: and his name is called The Word of God." (Rev. 19:13)

SANTA HAS WHITE HAIR
Santa is always pictured as an old man with white hair like wool.

JESUS CHRIST HAS WHITE HAIR
"His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire;" (Rev. 1:14)

SANTA IS OMNIPOTENT
He has the ability to carry presents for over a billion children.

JESUS CHRIST IS OMNIPOTENT
"And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth." (Mat. 28:18)

SANTA HAS SPIRIT HELPERS CALLED ELVES
Webster, 1828: "ELF...a spirit, the night-mar; a ghost, hag, witch"

JESUS CHRIST HAS SPIRIT HELPERS CALLED ANGELS
"Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him." (Mat. 4:11)

SANTA - SANAT - SATAN?

Sanat Kumara is worshipped by some new age groups as God. H.P. Blavatsky, the mother of the new age movement, said on page 350 of her book, The Secret Doctrine, Vol. 2: "The name isn't important. It is the letters". "Santa" has the same letters as "Satan"! According to G.A. Riplinger, "Ole Nick" is listed as the name of a fallen angel in the Dictionary of Fallen Angels. (New Age Bible Versions, Gail Riplinger, pg. 53)

Friend, don't glorify Satan by giving the glory and attributes of Jesus Christ to Santa Claus! Santa is a COUNTERFEIT GOD, and you are honoring Satan when you teach your children to believe in Santa! Christians should teach their children the TRUTH. We should glorify God by teaching our children about Jesus Christ and His saving grace!

Jesus lives in the north?

Furry?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO -- Then it got personal.

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For those of you who don't know, I am a extremely liberal member of the church of Christ. (This is a misnomer, of course, as it means that I'm really to the right of most fascists . . . anyway, I'm a Campbellite.) We pride ourselves on our autonomy and our equality; basically, we don't believe in any form of church hierarchy -- everybody's an evangelist, really -- AND we believe in the complete, absolute authority of scripture. We speak where the Bible speaks, and we are silent where the Bible is silent. Our doctrine changes from church to church, but we ALL agree on those two precepts.

Oh -- and we agree in full immersion water baptism for the remission of sins, as Peter describes in Acts 2:38, "Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." Yeah -- we're that literal about the Bible.

Let me repeat. We are freakishly literal about the Bible, and highly conservative.

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After the Santa thing, I began reading some of the other tracts on the site and found myself laughing aloud at how insanely conservative the writer is . . . but it's the self-conscious sort of laughter, the laughter elicited by the realization that the insanity I find humorous isn't so far removed from the values I say I represent . . . when I saw it.

Yep. "Acts 2:38 -- Satan's Favorite Bible Verse."

"Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." (Acts 2:38)

The above verse of scripture is a favorite among many religious groups. One can hear it several times on Sunday morning radio programs, as well as from the pulpits of numerous groups, and it can be found in much religious literature. The verse is a favorite because, on the surface, it seemingly states that one must be baptized in order to be saved, and without baptism one is not saved. So, those who believe that water baptism is essential for salvation make it a regular habit of using Acts 2:38 as scriptural support.

The problem is that Acts 2:38 isn't the only verse in the Bible which deals with salvation. While many claim to "speak where the scriptures speak and remain silent where the scriptures are silent," they practically ignore most of the New Testament teaching on salvation. The only verses that such false teachers quote and reference are the ones they feel they can use to promote their "water gospel." The fact is that most of what the New Testament says about salvation doesn't include baptism at all! (John 5:24, John 11:25-26, John 14:6, Romans 4:5, Romans 10:9-13, Eph. 2:8-9, etc.), and the few places that do mention water baptism do not include it as part of one's salvation. Water baptism follows salvation as one of the first steps of obedience for the new believer.

In spite of this obvious truth, the cultists remain steadfast in their heresy, insisting that Acts 2:38 sets forth water baptism as a requirement for salvation. Thus, this verse of scripture has become Satan's favorite Bible verse. In fact, many are trusting water baptism alone for the salvation of their souls! Indeed, Satan has deceived multitudes by his perversion of Acts 2:38.

Well, poop, buddy, you almost had me.

I find the greatest humor from this site NOT the cloying diadactic recitation of why Santa is Satan, or why "the Mormons" are "wrong." No, I got the biggest belly laugh from the fact that the most honestly conservative church I know, a church that can be so stilited and insane about trying to literally interpret the Bible that it occasionally binds its own best intentions in a Gordian knot of revealed truth, this church that is MY well-intentioned-yet-occasionally-crazy church . . . yeah, we're so liberal and misguided that WE'RE on the track to hell as well.

(Which is a real place, by the way.)

When A Sinner Goes To Hell. . .

"....the rich man also died, and was buried; And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame." Luke 16:22-24.

"Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. . ." Matthew 25:41.

"Enter ye in at the straight gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because straight is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." Matthew 7:13-14.

"But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Matthew 8:12.

"And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for the to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." Mark 9:43-44.

The subject of Hell isn't a very POPULAR subject, but it is, indeed, a very IMPORTANT subject. Jesus preached often about this horrible place for one basic reason: HE DOES NOT WANT YOU TO GO THERE! There are many who consider "hell fire" preaching to be cruel and unnecessary, but the Lord Jesus Christ thought it was very necessary to preach on Hell and WARN lost people of this horrible place.

Friend, since you began reading this tract, many people have died and went to Hell forever, and many more will have gone before you've finished. I can assure you that they would all love to have a second chance. They would all love to be able to read this tract and receive Christ as their Savior, but it's too late for them. They'll be in Hell for eternity. What about YOU?


Great. I guess I'll be down there too, with the Mormons, department store Santas, and everyone else in my cult of the "water gospel." Excuse me: I GUESS I'll be DOWN THERE too, with the MORMONS, DEPARTMENT store SANTAS, and . . . well, you know the rest. I wonder where hell is, though?

THE SPHERE OF HELL

The sphere of Hell is a round, hollowed-out place in the Earth's core. Scientists say that the Earth's outer crust is less than twenty miles thick, and that beyond that point, there are rivers and lakes of FLAMING HOT LAVA, or, as the Bible calls it, a "lake of fire" (Rev. 20:15). So, this very moment your eternal soul may be less than twenty miles from the burning fires of Hell!

Hell isn't in some distant dimension; Hell is UNDER YOUR FEET! The rebels in Numbers chapter 16 went DOWN into the pit. Moses wrote in Deuteronomy 32:22 about a fire in the LOWEST HELL. Amos 9:2 speaks of people trying to DIG down into Hell. So Hell is a REAL PLACE, and it's UNDER YOUR FEET RIGHT NOW, torturing millions of lost souls forever! Think about THAT!

Oh, I am. I am.

(giggles)

Sorry. I just realized that if my soul is, indeed "less than twenty miles from the burning fires of Hell!" then hell could also be Monroe, Georgia, another "hollowed out place" that I would like to nominate as a more likely candidate than the earth's core.

I also couldn't help but giggle at this passage from later in the same tract:

THE SUFFERING OF HELL

If you go to Hell, you'll suffer. That's what Hell is for.

". . . Keep smiling
Keep shining
Knowing you can always count on me
For sure --
For good times
And bad times
I'll be on your side for ever more . . ."

Suffering of hell, Dionne Warwick songs, hmmm. Maybe this guy's stumbled onto something.

My head hurts. I've just spent the last hour or so reading Xanga sites that my junior high kids have made . . . I am amazed at the sense of community they have. Other things about the Xanga experience that amaze me: the awesome "order from chaos" feel that I get from reading them, the true hypertextuality, the referentiality, the playfulness with language and design.

It's really interesting to read how these kids choose to define themselves, the way they experiment with language. HOWEVER, with that said . . . the crazy, mind-altering backgrounds kill me. WHEW.


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Graduate school -- I love it. I've spent waaaaaaaaaay too much time online looking for poetry ideas, though . . .

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One of the interesting things I've run across is an early 18th century Italian philosopher named Giambattista Vico. This from the Johns Hopkins Guide to Literary Theory and Criticism:

Vico turns the jurisprudential principle of the true and the certain into a metaphysics of history such that, as he holds in the New Science, it shows what providence has wrought in history (par. 342). The new critical art of the philosophical examination of philology shows, in Vico's view, that all nations follow a common pattern of development. This pattern shows the providential structure of human events. A further dimension to the new critical art is Vico's axiom that "doctrines must take their beginning from that of the matters of which they treat" (par. 314). He says that the first science to be learned must be mythology (par. 51) and that the "master key" to his new science is the discovery that the first humans thought in "poetic characters" or "imaginative universals" (universali fantastici) (par. 34). All nations begin in the same way by the power of the imagination (fantasia) to make the world intelligible in terms of gods. This age of gods gives way to a second age, in which fantasia is used to form social institutions and types of character or virtues in terms of heroes. Finally, these two ages, in which the world is ordered through the power of fantasia, decline into an age of rationality, in which the world is ordered in purely conceptual and logical terms and in which mental acting is finally dominated by what Vico calls a barbarism of reflection (barbarie della riflessione) (par. 1106).

This cycle of ages of gods, heroes, and humans repeats itself within the world of nations, forming what Vico calls ideal eternal history (storia ideale eterna) (par. 349). The world of nations is typified by the corsi and ricorsi of these three ages. From the standpoint of Vico's conception of the metaphysics of history, the divine attempts to reveal itself over and over again in human affairs, but history never takes on this sense of progress typical of eighteenth-century thought.


I love that idea of cyclical development -- gods to heroes to humans.

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Fascinating Satan stuff, from Wikipedia:

Where Satan does appear as an angel, he is clearly a member of God's court and plays the role of the Accuser, much like a prosecuting attorney for God. Such a view is found in the prologue to the Book of Job, where Satan appears, together with other celestial beings, before God, replying to the inquiry of God as to whence he had come, with the words: "From going to and fro on the earth and from walking in it" (Job 1:7). Both question and answer, as well as the dialogue which follows, characterize Satan as that member of the divine council who watches over human activity with the purpose of searching out men's sins and appearing as their accuser. He is, therefore, the celestial prosecutor (a type of lawyer), who sees only iniquity. For example, in Job 2:3-5, after Job passes Satan's first test, Satan requests that Job be tested even further.
It is evident from the prologue in Job that Satan has no power of independent action, but requires the permission of God, which he may not transgress. Satan works in opposition to God, though not entirely able to take action without consent. This view is also retained in Zech. 3:1-2, where Satan is described as the adversary of the high priest Joshua, and of the people of God whose representative the hierarch is; and he there opposes the "angel of the Lord," who bids him be silent in the name of God. In both of these passages Satan is a mere accuser who acts only according to the permission of the Lord.

In 1 Chron. 21:1 Satan appears as one who is able to provoke David to number (or take a census of) Israel. The Chronicler (third century B.C.) regards Satan here as a more independent agent, a view which is at first glance striking since it would seem the source where he drew his account (2 Sam. 24:1) speaks of God Himself as the one who moved David to take the census. But after a more careful survey is taken of the situation, it is apparent that the circumstances were similar to that of Job: Satan is free to issue temptation with God's consent. Although the older conception refers all events, whether good or bad, to God alone (1 Sam. 16:14; 1 Kings 22:22; Isa. 45:7; etc.), it is unlikely that the Chronicler, and perhaps even Zechariah, were influenced by Zoroastrianism, since Jewish monism strongly opposed Iranian dualism, especially in the case of the prophet.

I don't know what your feelings are about the idea of Satan, but it's an interesting thought.

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A letter from Eddie White, a minister friend from the South Baton Rouge Church of Christ:

Dear family in Christ,
Our congregation has received hundreds of phone calls and emails over the past few days. We have six secretaries answering six phone lines and responding to emails.
Our work with evacuees is more than you can imagine. The population of our city has more than doubled overnight. It looks like a war zone here- army helicopters, people on the streets stranded, police everywhere, etc.
I am only telling you this so that you will know that my email responses to you are brief, because I am swamped. Thank you for understanding. Your expressions of generosity and love to these precious people in need is a wonderful blessing.
I met today with leaders of churches in southern Lousiana, and with leaders of disaster relief organizations. Together we are coming up with a better plan to meet the multitude of needs.
Our church is involved in housing evacuees, and also being used as a distribution center for truckloads of water, medical supplies, food, etc.

This is a huge undertaking. It can't be done without God.

Hannah(my daughter) and I just picked up a lady and her 10 month old child from a Baton Rouge hospital, where she was recently released. We took her to our shelter. She was rescued from the roof of her home, and through a sad turn of events, was separated from her four of her children. She has not seen them for five days, not knowing where they are. Two hours ago she found out that they are in Dallas at a shelter. Thanks to someone we found in Lafayette, this mother and her infant will be taken to Dallas and reunited with them. That's good news.
The sad story is that I was not able to take 8 other people from the hospital with me, to find them shelter. I can't find room. There is one man from New Orleans stranded in the hospital with a 14 month old son with cancer. He has been treated, and because of the lack of space in the hospital, he must be released.

I have many many more stories, and we are just one congregation that is involved.

Strengthened by your prayers, Eddie White

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Eddie, Jami, the Dowdys, and I were all involved in taking a group of 25 students from GACS to the Czech Republic this last year. Eddie and his family spent ten years ministering to families in the city of Brno, many of them refugees from the Baltics, Turkey, Eastern Europe, you name it. I wonder how the American refugee experience differs? (Actually, I can think of some ways off of the top of my head, mostly dealing with support and hope, I think.)

Please keep Eddie and his church in your prayers.

Guess what? Monday begins the big Ph.D. adventure for me . . .

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A friend of mine asked me to do him a favor that fell on a weekday afternoon in October, and I discoved that I couldn't give him a clear answer on whether or not I would be available.

"Why not?" he asked, rather innocently.

I then began to list all of the things I was involved in this year, and he was so amused he told me to write them down so he could keep them straight . . .

A Partial List, submitted Humbly by your Author, in Reasonable Expectation of Sympathy, of his upcoming Yearly Schedule:

1. Teaching 8th grade English (six classes instead of the usual five; I am a mercenary willing to give up planning time for cold, hard cash);

2. Graduate school (at present, four nights a week for an hour and a half a pop);

3. Varsity and JV Academic Team head coach (practicing three afternoons a week, two hours a pop, with tournaments on ten Saturdays from 8AM to 3PM);

4. Co-chair of the SACS Steering Committee for GACS (responsible for school re-accreditation; writing a big old accreditation paper AND meeting at least twice a month somehow . . .);

5. Teaching an adult Sunday school class at church (and all the activites that go with it);

6. GACS football team statistics (an old promise to a friend . . . I will be attending every football game, even the away games . . . this is every Friday night in the fall.)

7. Assistant with GACS textbooks (this means I have delivered a ton of textbooks from the textbook "dungeon" to the classrooms -- I also am the first person consulted in the JH to fix problems with textbooks);

8. Czech Republic Mission Trip (taking 20 kids out of the country over Spring Break);

9. World Vision Club Sponsor (facilitating our JH kids to serve the poor and disadvantaged in other countries);

10. All of the duties, responsibilites, and stresses that come with being a JH teacher.

I tell you this not only to elicit your sympathy, but also to beg you to teach me to say "No." I've got to start saying "no" to people and not expect that they will hate me . . .

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More later . . . kids are coming back from lunch!

OUTSTANDING BOOKS ALERT:

A quickie (not a quiche, I assure you) as I am stealing time from Jami's classroom computer in between moving books around --

I recommend that you beg, buy, or steal the following books, immediately:

1. Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino (originally published in 1978): In one word: Lordamercy!!!! This book, after a first reading, immediately catapulted into my all-time, all-genre top five novels. It's a dialogue between Kubla Khan and Marco Polo; it's a description of all the cities that Polo has visited in his travels; it's a brilliantly informed commentary on the nature of existence; it's a pocket handbook of how to write. Read this book. READ THIS BOOK!

(After reading Calvino and deciding that he would join my all-time, all-genre top five novels, I went and re-read the other four I would stick in there. Someday, if I get a wild hair, I'll give you my top five collections of poetry, top five collections of short stories, top five non-fiction works, top five dance moves, top five dead dog movies, top five toothpaste brands, etc. BACK TO THE NOVELS! In no particular order:)

2. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1969): This sad and marvelous tale of the temporal sojourner Billy Pilgrim makes me weep openly every time I read it. For my money, the greatest depiction of the chaos of wartime in the life of an individual. Is Billy crazy? Is he sane? Poot-tee-weet. (Also one of the greatest openings in novel history: "Listen: Billy Pilgrim has become unstuck in time . . .) I also adore the Tramalfadorian structure underpinning the novel. What else to describe random chaotic insanity but absolute determinism?

3. All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946): A fictionalized account of the life of the despotic Huey Long, this novel is also so much more. Perhaps it is best described as a fugue about the interplay between guilt and memory, as the aptly named Jack Burden struggles to forget, then ignore, then face the inexorable past that he thinks must create his future.

4. The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929): I happen to believe that Faulkner is the greatest novelist ever, anywhere (yes, I'm a white guy; yes, I'm from the American South, but, c'mon, have you read this dude?) Wow. Double wow. From Benjy to Quentin, is there a better account of the sheer weight of the false idealism of the antebellum South? In the face of every small Southern town, its dust and heat and idolatry and chivalry and rage and hatred and racism and values, from the fetid antediluvian swampland of southern Mississippi to the great white expanses in the cotton counties of western Tennessee, from the arid wind-hammered plains of Texas to the wet mantrapping marshes of South Carolina -- in the face of everything that the Southron holds to be righteous -- here Faulkner forces the dark underbelly of the south into the light, demanding an answer, an understanding , a RECKONING; can you stand near the hellish fires of truth, or will you wither away, slinking underbrush, collapsing into yourself and hiding behind the ancient lies once hidden by the self-same darkness, lies once so easy to support but now uneasy as if their unveiling by the firelight has somehow given a palpable, unsupportable severity to those columns that once themselves held firm the unshakable, unapologetic foundation of the "chivalrous" and "honorable" South . . .

Uh, sorry.

Got carried away, there.

5. The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester (1956 as Tyger! Tyger! in Great Britain): Okay. I refuse to apologize for any of these books. They're my top five novels, not yours, and if you want to slap me for my lack of diversity in authorial gender, race, or time period, fine. Make your own list and send it to me, and I promise to give your favorite books a try.

I also refuse to apologize for my lack of snobbishness by picking an Alfred Bester novel. This book is science-fiction, written in the 1950's by a former comic book writer and pulp hack, and happens to be one of the most entertaining and enjoyable novels I have ever read. Soooooo much sci-fi becomes instantly dated by poor anticipation or hackneyed writing, and yet this 50 year old novel reads as fresh from the page as if it were finished this morning. Gulliver Foyle, "one-hundred and seventy days dying and not yet dead," ranks as one of the greatest anti-heroes in all of literature. Mega-corporations, atomic fears, telepaths, "jaunting" from place to place, and above all else, revenge -- much like the Count of Monte Cristo, Foyle finds himself driven beyond his own capabilities by an overweening anger and a thirst for vengeance -- this book has it all. I assure you that you will not be disappointed if you try it.

Arrgh! Must go! Jami needs help! Later, peeps, and if you want to leave me your top five novels, I'd love to read something great this summer. I ask only that you restrict these responses to novels . . . poetry, short stories, and all non-fiction to come at a later date.

Go out and read something good!

Ahh . . . I see that Matt Elliott has created a caste system in order to (presumably) guilt us into updating more.

Eh, caste system seems inexact -- no, it's definitely incorrect.

What we've got here is Matt's Divine Comedy, of sorts, with "Update Regularly" in Paradise, "Wild Hairs" in Purgatory, and we lazy "MIAs" in the raging Inferno: the fifth circle of Hell, to be precise, reserved for the slothful who are forever trapped beneath the Styx.

But who will be my Beatrice, drawing my vision forever upward despite my torment? Matt? Mike Cope? David Hutchens? Greg Taylor?

I suppose I'm stuck here forever with Mandy, Baron, and Quiara. Hopefully I'll be able to redeem myself in the summer months, when I am not helping 137 teenagers try to move on to high school English; updating and maintaining a website was so much easier when I was unemployed . . .

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Mark this date in your calendars: August 22, 2005. That date marks the first meeting of Contemporary American Poetry, which is my first class at Georgia State University.

Oh, did I mention I was accepted into the English Ph.D. program there?

WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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I'm still trying to formulate a theory of everything. Remember TOEs? Back in the halcyon days of physical chemistry and modern classical (an oxymoron, apologies) physics, some knucklehead stated that all that could be known about the physical world would soon be known, and a number of "theories of everything" abounded to explain every known phenomenon.

Unfortunately for the theory, quantum mechanics developed. With QM came all of the vagaries of chaos theory and its problematic relationship with probability; pretty soon physicists everywhere discovered that they didn't quite know what they knew, or some such.

That's about where I am, in my ongoing struggle/discourse with faith and truth.

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TOE Fragments:

-----------------

Whatever happened to value?

----------------

Plato versus Aristotle: The nature of truth, it seems to me, comes down to a dogfight between Plato and Aristotle . . . is there a Platonic objective truth, outside the particulars, or does truth hang upon the particulars with Aristotelian subjectivity?

----------------

The best description I have ever heard of the solipsistic hell of pure existentialism is delivered in an exchange between Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp in the new Western classic Tombstone:

Doc Holliday -- A man like Ringo has got a great big hole, right in the middle of himself. And he can never steal enough, or kill enough, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it.
Wyatt Earp -- What does he want?
Doc Holliday -- Revenge.
Wyatt Earp -- For what?
Doc Holliday -- Bein' born.

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Reading Mere Christianity for the first time shocked me when C. S. Lewis, apologist supreme, gave this reason for believing: the human conscience.

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Don't you think the human mind looks for patterns more than anything else? Pattern recognition: it's the basis for so many of the writing techniques I teach. We teach students to write and think in parallel structures because these structures reassure us that the author knows what she or he is doing, even aside from the content delivered by them. Until I first taught eighth grade English, I didn't really appreciate Marshall McLuhan's idea that "the medium is the message." Wasn't it T. S. Eliot who said (and I paraphrase, badly) that "meaning" in modern poetry served only to divert a reader's attention, just like a burglar gives meat to a watchdog? The structure's often the thing.

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Apophenia.

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the ease of chaos yet
an old yearning for guidance

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Conversation with Gary Crane, GACS world history teacher, about modern critical theory:

Me: Yeah, Gary, but I'm probably more formalist than anything else.
Gary: I don't follow you. What's that mean?
Me: Formalist, the New Critics. Tennessee, Vanderbilt, 1920s. Robert Penn Warren, Cleanth Brooks, Donald Davidson. You know, symbolism? The Formalists held that works of literature were complete texts no matter how they came into existence, and they should be studied as such. One text can be directly compared to another, and texts exist to be "decoded" in order to find placement in the canon. Really, the text is a sort of -- uh -- almost -holy- artifact, and you study it instead of its author. Each work is complete unto itself, regardless of who wrote it and his or her literary reputation.
Gary: But you said this differs from modern theories . . . how?
Me: In a simple nutshell, modern theory depends upon the reader and what they bring to the work. It doesn't matter authorial intent, or even codes hidden in the text . . . well, you can see codes, but there's no definitive meaning behind the code. What matters is how the individual reader sees those codes. Heraclitus, ya see? You can't step into the same river twice, and no two readers actually read the same book because the book depends on the reader's analysis. It's subjectivity versus objectivity, right?
Gary: But you've still got the same text.
Me: A-ha! But some modern critics would argue "no, no you don't."
Gary: In history we don't really have these arguments, because no one can argue that something actually happened. Something happened, all right, your interpretation can differ, but you can't argue that *something* happened.
Me: Sure you can.
Gary: No, you can't. Take Pearl Harbor, for example. No one can argue that it happened, that the Japanese attacked on December 7, 1941.
Me: Gimmie fifteen or twenty years, let everyone die who eyewitnessed the event, and I'll make you a great argument. Especially if the evidence is fragmentary.
Gary: But that's not history. Something happened! You can't argue that it didn't happen just because . . . shoot. The Holocaust. Jesus and his death. The Mormons. Hmm. I guess you can.
Me: (hoping to deliver an intelligent epigram to end the conversation) Gary, I think it can be argued that history is completely subjective.
Gary: (completely upstaging me) I wonder if objectivity is merely the subjectivity of the fortunate?

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Is it value I want, or authority? Who will have dominion?

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Simple faith.

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress: As Christian advances through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, he encounters a whispering ghoul who flies up behind him and whispers to him, "Why don't you die?" Christian is tired, and weak, and he eventually confuses the ghoul's voice with his own. Bunyan says that he would have fallen on his sword and ended the struggle, except he remembers his faith at the last minute and begins to repeat a simple sentence: "I will take my strength from the Lord God."

Sometimes, you only need a sentence.

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Post structualist, deconstructionist, etc. -- were they created to point out the chaos and simply destroy everything? Didn't they have the goal of replacing the deconstructed values with something else? Have they painted themselves into a corner?

If everything is untrue, how is truth chosen?

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We're like adolescents, reveling in the fact that adults compromise, and ignoring them if they are fallible . . . why?

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I want choice -- I don't want marginalization -- but I also want TRUTH. What is it? Does it exist? Can it exist? Why or why not?

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Laws a mercy, it's been a while.

In the interim, your intrepid blogger has been busy. A sampling? Yes.

1. SACS/SAIS stuff -- for those of you who do not work for a school, and do not have to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous accreditation every five years, let me tell you -- it's BLISSFUL. ("Can I get an exact count of the learning disabled Aleutian Indians that your school has graduated since 1977? What differentiated learning skills did you utilize to reach this group?") Actually, it's not been that bad -- I'm just easily stressed by official documentation and the "R" word . . . responsibility.

2. GATA -- Over the weekend (Saturday, 19 March to be exact) the GACS Academic Team that I coach won the Georgia state championship. They are the best team I've ever seen, much less coached, and I can't express to you how proud I am of them. One of the greatest moments of my life happened on Monday when we were presenting the championship trophy to the school. The entire high school began to applaud the team, then rose and gave them a spontaneous standing ovation. You know what? They deserve it. (And yes, I cried. Like a baby.)

3. Graduate school -- I've been trying to get into English Ph.D. programs here in the Atlanta area to hopefully work my way through part-time. I've applied to Emory University (this, dear friends, is but a pipe dream), the University of Georgia, and Georgia State University. On the plus side, I'm a pretty good student with good GRE scores; on the minus side, it took me seven years to finish my M.A. at Georgia Southern . . . does this translate to taking 45 years on the Ph.D.? This doesn't really bode well, either -- I was forced to fill out a form at each of the schools describing my "Book/Magazine Publishing History" and I put this blog and my high school newspaper articles. I'm pretty sure the Princeton M.A.'s have a slightly different record. Then again, I'm pretty sure that the Princeton M.A.'s never wrote about Tennessee's draconian car window tinting policy for the Trojan Torch in 1992. This could be my ticket to a free education.

4. Mission trip -- Jami and I (and Bev and Ken Dowdy) are taking a group of GACS kids to Brno, Czech Republic over our Spring Break; I fully expect to be deported by day two. You can read about our misadventures here.

5. Grading -- I'm an English teacher; enough said.

I've got another epic in the works, but the bell has rung and you'll just have to wait anxiously until, uh, April? (Was it really a month -- yowza!)

This is, easily, 1.) the funniest thing I have ever read,

and 2.) proof that I am the luckiest human alive.

Read this, immediately: The THINGS I LOVE blog entry.

After you read it, tell me -- am I not lucky to share my life with this jewel of a human being, who makes me laugh out loud every day?

And, no, you don't even need to answer that.

Matt Elliott! I thought of you!

Went to a "barn raising" this weekend (church in the sticks built a new building, y'see) and much doctrine and fellowship was had there, all hail.

Anywho, we're having a good old church of Christ time, when the songleader (using mimeographed copies of the songs -- mark of the true professional) tells us to take our "Songs of Faith and Praise" and turn to "Victory in Jesus." The song in the book, though, read differently from his version . . .

Our book said: "And somehow Jesus came and bro't to me the victory"

Our songleader sang: "When I obeyed the blest command, I GAINED the victory."

We were all actually frightened for a moment by the book -- the nerve! That Jesus might come and speak to us before our full immersion baptism! What were they thinking?

Amen, sister.

Teacher, student, professional -- I think that we are all closet (or overt) doldrum sufferers. Thanks to Mandy Richey for her insight into this part of the year that threatens to make prodigals of us all.

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With that in mind, I'd like use as little brainpower as possible. I have decided to steal from others in order to make this thought provoking. With mad kudos to Matt Byars and his quotes of the day, here are some quotes that I have stumbled upon recently and really liked:

(P.S. -- Quotes in bold, and I have reserved and exercised the right to comment after each.)

The shepherd drives the wolf from the sheep's throat, for which the sheep thanks the shepherd as his liberator, while the wolf denounces him for the same act.... Plainly the sheep and the wolf are not agreed upon a definition of liberty.
-- Abraham Lincoln

Does anyone else believe that we've gotten dumber as a society, rather than smarter? You would naturally assume that it worked the other way, of course, but then you go back and read Lincoln, or Mark Twain, and their prosody leaps off of the page -- and not as an antiquated rhetorical artifact, but a living, breathing, impassioned engagement of society. I am often humbled by 19th century essayists, especially when I'm feeling all fat and sassy about something that I have written.

As nightfall does not come at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there is a twilight when everything remains seemingly unchanged. And it is in such twilight that we all must be most aware of change in the air, however slight, lest we become unwitting victims of the darkness. -- Justice William O. Douglas

Wow. Wow. Had you ever heard this one before? I can't believe I've lived my entire life without hearing this wisdom. . . I love this one. If I ever finish my Great American Novel (we're at 893 pages of drivel, and counting) this sucker's gonna be on my dedication page.

There are more instances of the abridgement of the freedom of the people by the gradual and silent encroachment of those in power, than by violent and sudden usurpation. -- President James Madison. 1751-1836

"Be careful little hands, what you do," for governments, maybe?

Every normal man must be tempted at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. -- H.L. Mencken. 1880-1956

Ahh, Mencken. I went through a Mencken/Bierce phase, and though I tell myself I've out grown it, or at least out-civilized it, there are times when his exact turn of phrase fits perfectly. Please don't take this to mean that I am currently contemplating this action. ("I love my students," whispered Mr. Denton quietly, sharpening the knife.)

Middle class people are fearful of losing. So everything is about fear of loss. When's everything is based on money, everything's for sale, including their integrity and their morals. -- Roseanne

Is this not the most salient thing you've ever heard Roseanne say? Do you feel as weird as I do about the inclusion of Roseanne on a wise quotes page? Still, I call 'em like I see 'em, and I think this quotation stands on its own merits.

Never doubt that a small group of concerned citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. -- Margaret Mead

Well, that, and fast food.

Truth is incontrovertible. Panic may resent it; ignorance may deride it; malice may distort it; but there it is. -- Sir Winston Churchill

I use this one in my classroom all the time, especially in my eighth grade Bible class. I've got this strange belief that the truth is just the truth; it stands on its own merits and does not require cajoling. Maybe my favorite Sunday school class of all time was one taught by David Anguish at the Snellville church of Christ . . . one of those happy accidents, as I was not at all a regular; it was the day before Christmas and we were visiting family. Anguish structured his entire class around the story of Jesus and how we ought to believe in it: "Friends, we believe in the Bible not because it is morally courageous, or doctrinally sound, or cleansingly compelling -- we believe because it is the truth. Take a good long look at your own beliefs: you should have no "oughts" or "shoulds" in there. God's story does not appeal based on adjucation: he isn't the best of something, he -IS- the something. Did God say 'I am better than?' Did God say 'I am righter than?' No. God said, 'I AM,' and he is." I was so pumped, I didn't even notice that we didn't sing one single Christmas song. Go C of C! Er, c of C!

Liberty lies in the rights of that person whose views you find most odious. -- John Stuart Mill

Actual conversation, Georgia Southern University, Fall Quarter 1997, Methods of Teaching College Composition --
Dr. Frederick Sanders: Of course, when it comes to composition, we use a standard template of works. You'll note the careful selection of novels, poetry, short stories, essa-
Ambers: (interrupting) Aw, Doc, Doc, Doc! These kids won't read these.
Dr. Sanders: Eh?
Stark: What do you mean?
Ambers: Why can't we vary the curriculum? You know the kids these days. Boom. MTV. Boom. Scooby Doo. Boom. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Boom. Jai Alai. Boom. Jetskis. Right? Right? (Looks at Dr. Sanders, Stark, Williams, Strayhorn, Gbisi, and Denton, all of whom are thoroughly confused.) I mean, it's a new generation, right? Pepsi and all that rat crap?

(Silence for two beats, then everyone talking at once.)

Strayhorn: William? What the h**l are you talking about?
Gbisi: Is it just my English, or is he-
Williams: Naw, I'm from Macon and I don't understand him.
Stark: (honestly confused) Highlighted chassis?
Denton: (giggling uncontrollably) JAI ALAI. He said "JAI ALAI" then "JETSKI."
Ambers: I just mean, well, look here, this one. John Stuart Mill. He sucks eggs. Tell me one reason we should teach John Stuart Mill and not, say, Grisham or somebody popular. Clive Cussler. They'd love Clive Cussler. They're gonna snooze through Mill, yes? Does anyone read this crap?

(Short pause, then Dr. Sanders, Stark, Williams, Strayhorn, Gbisi, and Denton all raise their hands.)

Strayhorn: (beginning to become angry) We're all -- all of us -- all -- you are too --
Stark: We're all freaking graduate students in British Literature, moron.
Denton: Were you hoping for some kind of revolt, or something? Down with the books! Up with Buffy! Jai Alai will be our guide, and Michael Jackson our prophet! JETSKIS . . . . HO!

Of course, the ultimate irony lies in the fact that William Ambers probably held the most odious views of anyone I have ever met. But Mill only gives him liberty, not freedom from taunting. . .

The only thing in the world worth a d*mn is the strange, touching, pathetic, awesome nobility of the individual human spirit. -- John D. MacDonald, A Deadly Shade of Gold

Lest you read the previous comments and find me an elitist psuedo-intellectual snob about books, let me beg you to go immediately to your local library or bookstore and find the Travis McGee mystery/suspense series written by John D. MacDonald from 1964-1986. Read every one of them that you can get your hands on. What a marvelous commentary on the human condition, society, friendships, military service, aging, action, everything -- and all distilled from the perspective of a world weary beach bum who keeps on going by doing favors for his friends. The above quote I once had framed above my bedroom door, just as a reminder.

I'm quoted out for this week. Feel free to comment on these, leave favorites of your own, etc. I hope these fire your synapses and activate your mind.

How do you follow a magnum opus?

You don't. You're emotionally drained, plus there's the fear that you just won't be as relevant the next time you go to write. Then, of course, there's the fear that your magnum opus wasn't as good as you thought in the first place, 'cause it pales in comparision to Shakespeare.

(Poop on you, Harold Bloom!)

Update time, then!

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1. Books I have recently purchased and will read soon:

-Hopscotch- by Julio Cortazar

I'm into this whole "friends of Borges and we all collectively extend the cult of modernism in our own way by exploding it" thingy. Ultraist fiction, indeed! Bring on my Spanish dictionary!

-Child of God- by Cormac McCarthy

Has anyone else read any of McCarthy's earlier work? I'm not talking about the Border Trilogy (-All the Pretty Horses-, -The Crossing-, -Cities of the Plain-); I mean his pre--Blood Meridian- stuff . . . pretty creepy and excellent, from what I understand.

-Selected Poems- by Gwendolyn Brooks

She's black, she's urban, she's an careful wordsmith with a fabulous ear for meter. She is everything I am not. I adore this woman. Why? Because she is everything I am not?

-If Not Now, When?- by Primo Levi

Levi's one of those writers that comes highly recommended by my favorite writers. I look forward to revisiting WWII Italy. Or would that be just visiting WWII Italy?

-Time's Arrow: Or, the Nature of the Offense- by Martin Amis

So he's supposedly a genius, an auteur, a creator of the highest rank . . . we'll see. I loved his memoir, but I'm a little iffy about his fiction.

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2. Mad props to my college homie: Brad Kibler. Words cannot express my joy. He is truly the Prince of Tides, a southern gentleman, a lover of history, the man who asked me, quietly, to stop listening to so many Queen and AC/DC albums.

Miles and years have seperated us. He's away the heck and gone in Coastal Carolina; I'm in metro Atlanta, and we haven't really kept in touch.

I often recall a legendary trip through the heart of Alabama: Nashville to Mobile, driving straight through (after the KOA outside of Columbia, Tennessee was found to be hosting a biker convention) -- we couldn't take a chance on our own personal Sturgis, so we decided in the middle of the night to see the ocean. I, for one, had never been.

Ahhhhhhh . . . maybe the funniest thing I have ever experienced is awakening drowsily to discover that the car was stopped at a gas station in Clanton, idling, one Kibler foot on the brake, one Kibler foot on the clutch, completely prone with the seat all the way back, eyes closed. Thinking he had fallen asleep, or died, I softly wept and whispered, "Brad, Brad." He immediately responded, "Don't be sorrowful, other Brad. I have not died, or fallen asleep. I have merely been struck blind by extreme fatigue. You must drive. When we get to Nashville, take me to Vanderbilt. Tell them I am blind. Tell them I have insurance."

He came, he saw, he commented.