from Roth's American Pastoral

And yet what are we to do about this terribly significant business of other people, which gets bled of the significance we think it has and takes on instead a significance that is ludicrous, so ill-equipped are we all to envision one another's interior workings and invisible aims? Is everyone to go off and lock the door and sit secluded like the lonely writers do, in a soundproof cell, summoning people out of words and then proposing that these word people are closer to the real thing than the real people that we mangle with our ignorance every day? The fact remains that getting people right is not what living is all about anyway. It's getting them wrong that is living, getting them wrong and wrong and wrong and then, on careful reconsideration, getting them wrong again. That's how we know we're alive: we're wrong. Maybe the best thing would be to forget about right or wrong about people and just go along for the ride. But if you can do that-- well, lucky you.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone.

Finis

So in America when the sun goes down ... I think of Dean Moriarty. For I had walked thus far with my lady on the hill, and I didn't know what came next; all I saw was the rift. Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago. I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so, the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no shadow of another parting from her. Yet my eyes decieved me; she turned suddenly and said: "I must go in, the fog is rising." She left me with my lighted expanses. I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath, and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth. But then I heard a strangely familiar voice retelling: "They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way." Just so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. But that is the beginning of a new story - the story of the gradual renewal of a man, the story of his gradual regeneration, of his passing from one world into another, of his initiation into a new unknown life. That might be the subject of a new story, but our present story is ended."

New Aeijtzsche time, new Aeijtzsche channel

Hello dear fellows.

I have started a blog that I hope will become a clearing house for my creative endeavors. Feel free to visit and read the first essay I have written exclusively for my blog. Feel free to comment on the subject as well as the quality of the actual writing.

Here's the link

http://aeijtzsche.blogspot.com/

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Rick hoped that one day he could call her...his girlfriend

Nostalgia:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bRln0IEIBFE

Sad News

Christian Skoglund, one of my Wheaton friends and a Blackhawk pilot died today in a crash in Italy. Please pray for his family and his sister who was one of our Wheaties as well. He was my mentor and we shared some great times together in Iraq / Kuwait.

On the other side of things, I just arrived home. My mom is doing a great job at getting me back to health. I am on a variety of medications and drugs and I am just really swollen for the most part.

Spirits in the Material World

Hello friends.

I'm still very unfortunately here in Michigan, where I have had plenty of time for contemplation.

Much of my contemplation has been centered upon trying to figure out how I fit into the world. The more I've thought about it, the more trouble I'm finding picturing fitting in with the normal, expected life that modern society expects.

What ever happened to the"Former T6 family and friends experiemental living commune" [FTFFELC] idea? Weren't we going to go in on a large property somewhere and start an intellectual co-op where we all live off the land and each contribute our unique abilities, all the while contributing professionally to our fields, but on our own terms?

Tha sort of thing is very appealing to me: intentionally living below the poverty line, having a close community, and having plenty of time for artistic pursuits because income wouldn't be as important.

I wish I had a lot of like minded friends willing to give this a try, because I'm at the end of my rope. I just don't think I can lead a "normal" life.

TTFN

Aeijtzschey

Stanley Fish and Theodicy

There are a few of you to whom I owe email responses or other signals that I continue to live and breathe. Especially Adam, who wrote to me before his trip to Italy and is still waiting for a response. Unconscionable, I agree. Alas, I am finishing (read: writing from scratch, or re-writing) the first chapter of my dissertation this week, to be submitted to various members of my committee on Friday, so I won't be communicating much this week. But, by Saturday, I'll be back in action.

In the meantime, you might be interested in reading Stanley Fish's latest blog post on "Suffering, Evil and the Existence of God." The post is actually an extended review of two forthcoming books, Bart D. Ehrman's (a Wheaton and PTS grad) God’s Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question – Why We Suffer and Antony Flew’s (not even close to a Wheaton grad) There Is a God: How the World’s Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind.

Both books take up Epicurus's old question: “Is God willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is impotent. Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Whence, then, evil.” As you might expect from their titles, they come to different conclusions on the matter. An interesting read.

Dave Update #1423

First a few words from Andrew at this exact moment in time:

"Is this a camel Daddy?" "I fix it"
Mom [walking in with Isaac]: "Flying naked baby! ... Wow! Did you draw something on here Dave?"
"Yeah, I drew a camel."
"Wow, he's coloring it in exactly."

Nice. My boy's got skills. Earlier this week he actually drew a recognizable face inside the circle I had drawn for him. Two eyes, a mouth, two ears, and a neck. He can count to fifteen (on a good day), say the ABCs, and, of course, translate the majority of Cicero into the most beautiful of French.

What does that have to do with the fact that we are about to go and find out if we are going to be able to buy a house? I'm glad you asked. Absolutely nothing. But yes, we are just about to leave to witness a little town lottery for a low income housing option that is selling six units in a new Hamilton townhouse development for under a third of the regular price. I'll let you know.

And yes, the rumors are true; I'm leaving here a semester early (with just one M.A., not two) so that I can start web-programming full time. Who'da thunk? But there it is. Maybe Logemann's close behind! Some day we'll start our own little online education mecca. Coye, you in? No? Shoot. Well, you can at least have a regular Fishesque column.

I just noticed that little "add video" icon up there. Man, am I behind the times or what? These days, I have to rely on Andy to keep me up to date on all the technological news. I mean, I'm a web developer now, not a tech-nerd like the rest of you.

Well, that's about all I have time for. Nice chatting. For those of you hiding in the bushes [I can see you on Google analytics!] come out and tell us what's happening; otherwise we'll keep forgetting about each other. And it is good to remember each other. And, it would be good to talk from time to time : )

Obama and the Fam

OK, this is either a commentary on the unhinged nature of our political system, the unbelievable strength of coincidence, or, my favorite option, proof that the Masons really do have a nefarious plot to rule the world. It is, in a word, bizzare.

From the Chicago Sun Times: "Barack Obama is related to both President Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney." Yeah, that's right. Related. The brief article continues: "Obama and Bush are 11th cousins" because "they share the same great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents -- Samuel Hinckley and Sarah Soole Hinckley of 17th century Massachusetts."

And the Cheney connection? "Obama is related to Cheney through Mareen Duvall, a 17th century immigrant from France. Mareen and Susannah Duvall were Obama's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents and Cheney's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents. That makes Obama and Cheney ninth cousins once removed."

Oh Let Not Time Deceive You

Hey everyone

I'm currently spending the month in the great state of Louisiana,
flying and doing other things while support an infantry combat brigade
as they go through combat validation at Jrtc. I gave in to Jobs and
purchased an apple iPhone, something that I will admit was definitely
worth it! I'm still enjoying army life. I still live in TN. On Nov 6
I will be having my jaw surgery and will have a somewhat different
looking face. I will be spending that month at home. My mom will be
flying up to make sure I'm ok for the first week or so. I can't wait
to get these braces off though.

Towards Perpetual Peace

I am in the early stages of designing and proposing my own Rhetoric course here at UT. The standard convention is teaching a course named "The Rhetoric of..." fill in your topic here. It will come as no surprise to you that I am thinking of teaching the rhetoric of political violence. My interest will be pushing the concepts of peace, war, oppression, security, violence, retribution, resistance, revolution, protest and the like. (I am also thinking about the practices of war and peace, national security and civil rights, captial punishment and torture, peaceful protest and revolution.)

I have ulterior motives in telling you this. I want to exploit you as resources. I am wondering what kinds of texts-- poems, novels, songs, films, essays, etc-- you might recommend for giving undergraduates a conceptual vocabulary to think and write about violence in the political sphere-- particularly violence that is framed as necessary and/or instrumental. A text that justifies violence could be as useful as one that presents my own personal pacifist views (although I will, of course, appreciate that kind of suggestion). Particularly, does anyone know of fitting texts by MLK or Ghandi?

[My second choice might be a rhetoric of profit, so if you have any great ideas in that direction...]

Bonhoeffer's Ethical Imperative

Thought for the day:

"If we want to understand God's goodness in God's gifts, then we must think of them as a responsibility we bear for our brothers and sisters. Let none say: God has blessed us with money and possessions, and then live as if they and their God were alone in the world. For the time will come when they realize that they have been worshipping the idols of their good fortune and selfishness. Possessions are not God's blessing and goodness, but the opportunities of service which God entrusts to us." (From A Testament to Freedom, p 197.)

“The perfect search engine would be like the mind of God.”

This blog (with the probable exception of Coye—in fact, that’s mostly the reason why we keep you around, Coye, to smash up the normativity of our assumptions. Or something.) is populated by fans of the range of apps Google has developed and made freely available. I myself use Google’s Gmail, Calendar, Reader, Notebook, Docs and Spreadsheets, oh, and that little-known search engine they cobbled together. Siva Vaidhyanathan is not one of these, and he’s working on a book called The Googlization of Everything: How One Company is Disrupting Culture, Commerce and Community—And Why We Should Worry. An interesting sample:

“The damage Google has done to the world is largely invisible. Google got big by keeping ads small. It carefully avoided pinching our marketing-saturated nervous systems and offered illusions of objectivity, precision, comprehensiveness, and democracy. After all, we are led to believe, Google search results are determined by peer-review, by us, not by an editorial team of geeks. So far, this method has worked wonderfully. Google is the hero of word-of-mouth marketing lore. Google guides me through the open Web, the space that Microsoft does not yet control. Yet Google must get bigger to satisfy its new stockholders. It must go new places and send its spiders crawling through un-indexed corners of human knowledge. Google’s mission statement includes the rather optimistic and humanistic phrase, “to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful.” But Google co-founder Sergey Brin once offered a more ominous description of what Google might become: “The perfect search engine would be like the mind of God.””

[h/t Alan Jacobs]

The Hastert Center

Coye has got us started in this spirit of channeling Dusty in his absence (where are you Dusty, when so many interesting things are happening at our alma mater?), and in just a casual search for something I might contribute to this spate of Wheatoblogging, I discovered a very interesting fact. Do you happen to know the fate of our beloved MSC? The former home of CPO, the Stupe, and various coffee house performances featuring our own Dave Jones as frontman for the AKP is slated to become The J. Dennis Hastert Center for Economics, Government, and Public Policy.

According to the press release, "In recognition of the large number of Wheaton graduates in public service both in Washington, D.C. and at the state level, The J. Dennis Hastert Center for Economics, Government, and Public Policy at Wheaton College will advance the study of market economies and representative democracies, both within the campus community and in the general public. The Hastert Center will affirm the values, institutions, and policy interests that characterize the Honorable J. Dennis Hastert’s career in public life. Specifically, the activities of the Hastert Center and the holder of the Kvamme Chair will uphold the principles and qualities evident in Speaker Hastert’s career as teacher, coach, state legislator, and Member of Congress."

Saga

I know it might seem like a bit much, but this girl I see sometimes heard this on the radio and pointed it out to me tonight, and I couldn't resist adding another item under our shiny new tag:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=14748873

It is, after all, in the byline of our blog's title. Remember student appreciation dinners?

V. Raymond Edman

Here's a news story a friend of mine in the Episcopal seminary here in Austin pointed out to me.

Dusty hasn't given us any Wheaton news of late, so I thoght I'd go ahead and post it.

http://www.suburbanchicagonews.com/couriernews/news/571549,3_1_EL24_A4ANGLICANS_S1.article

Alzheimer’s: Type 3 Diabetes?

I am an avid (even voracious) consumer of news and cultural commentary, much of which is daily delivered to my Google Reader. The upside of this is that I usually know a little bit about a lot of things. Emphasis on a little and a lot, in the right proportions (reverse those positions and you have a dissertation project). The downside is that few things surprise me, and even fewer make me stop everything else I'm doing to pay attention.

This story did just that. There is a growing body of evidence that suggests that Alzheimer's disease has a lot to do with how the brain processes insulin, and that the disease itself may be productively considered as a form of diabetes. Add this to the nearly overwhelming incidence of Type II diabetes among the world's population, which is projected to effect nearly 1/3 of America's population in the next few decades, and you have the most pressing public health crisis of the 21st century.

In case you're too lazy to click the link (you know who you are), a few highlights:

"Now scientists at Northwestern University have discovered why brain insulin signaling -- crucial for memory formation -- would stop working in Alzheimer’s disease. They have shown that a toxic protein found in the brains of individuals with Alzheimer’s removes insulin receptors from nerve cells, rendering those neurons insulin resistant. (The protein, known to attack memory-forming synapses, is called an ADDL for “amyloid ß-derived diffusible ligand.”)

"With other research showing that levels of brain insulin and its related receptors are lower in individuals with Alzheimer’s disease, the Northwestern study sheds light on the emerging idea of Alzheimer’s being a “type 3” diabetes.

"The new findings, published online by the FASEB Journal, could help researchers determine which aspects of existing drugs now used to treat diabetic patients may protect neurons from ADDLs and improve insulin signaling in individuals with Alzheimer’s. (The FASEB Journal is a publication of the Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology.)"

Road Rage

Now, I get as annoyed as the next guy when traffic slows down for miles at a toll plaza. Particularly in Chicagoland. But these two took things to a new extreme...

September, September

I think this month will be hard for me for quite some time.

Six years ago. Six years ago I found myself marked, compelled to think and to speak about whatI would prefer to leave in silence. I am afraid to speak, I open my mouth in terror because my words cannot-- words cannot-- even now, here, in this sentence cannot say or be or do what is needed. I would pray for silence, but I am not allowed. I speak in terror, knowing I cannot do what I must. That I must do what I cannot.

Six years ago the eleventh of September was a Tuesday. I remember the English class I had that Tuesday, in the shocked afternoon that followed the clear, terrible morning. I sat in a classroom devoted to words on a day that words cannot approach, a day that words must approach, even when to do so is unholy.

Six years later, tommorrow, I will go to a Tuesday afternoon class devoted to words, once again on the eleventh of September, and I will teach. I was reminded today that most of my students were twelve years old in 2001-- children, only children! What do they remember, what can they remember? How do I stand before them, teaching them language, on the day I would devote to silence?

I sent the final copy of my essay on memorials and the World Trade Center to the Wallace Stevens Journal today, today the tenth of September-- that date sounds almost edenic in its innocence! But my uncle died yesterday, on the ninth, in the quietly unseen space of his own home. Et in Arcadia Ego. And my cousin's long-planned wedding follows hard behind.

The wedding will follow the funeral. My twelve year olds are now in college. I teach and publish and live.

Oh, September

I thought I'd give you fellas a personal update before the craziness that will be my fall semester totally subsumes my life. Unlike the midwest, September in Austin is still very much the summer, so this will be a quick, sweaty email sent from deep in the heart of Texas.

I started teaching a new class in a new department this week. I think it will be good and rewarding, but it's going to be a hell of a lot of work. [profanity used advisedly] I'm sort of writing the syllabus as I go along, so there's a certain seat of the pants uneasiness that I'm trying to turn into some sort of thrilling ride. I'll let you know how things go on that front.

I met two girls this week. Well, one I had chatted up several months ago and then lost track of, and she turned up again when I went for a drink with a friend of mine. The other I'd been wanting to talk to at cafe I frequent, and she showed up at a random party that another friend's roommate talked us into going to. Anyways, I guess I'm pulling that whole resilient, "get back on the horse" thing. It's either very brave or very stupid... but you've gotta try, right?

I also moved into a house with a roommate, so my old address is bad and you'll need to get my new one from me if you need it. Redundant, I know. I'd like to leave you all by pointing out that my city is better than everywhere the rest of you live, so you might as well come visit me. But not on September 17th: I'll be watching Bob Dylan play in Zilker Park that night. Bon nuit.

Lost email addresses

Hi, those who still read this. My laptop died, and it was the sold depository that I had for many of your email addresses. Please email me at my usual address at either yahoo.com or gmail.com so that I can reach you be email.

Thanks!

New city. New job?

Hi everyone (Dave, Coye, Andy, and anybody else who still reads this thing),

How is everybody? I'm breaking radio silence, because I now have a job offer in the Chicago area. And I would like prayer as to whether or not I should take it. For those of you not aware of the situation. My job in DC ends this upcoming Friday, and I'm moving to Chicago whether I have a job to start or not. I have not been as active in job searching as I wish I would have been, yet I have a job offer from a firm that does fixed-income investment software. The job sounds fairly interesting, but I'm not sure what my next step career-wise would be if I ever left it, and the commute would be over an hour long if I want to live close to Kari (my girlfriend), which is the biggest tangible reason that I'm moving out there. Prayers for wisdom, guidance, and a sense of God's will is appreciated. I'm thinking that I should maybe hold out for something more econ related with a shorter commute, but I'm unsure.

Peace.

Question about George Lakoff's Metaphors

Has anyone else read part or the whole of Lakoff's Metaphors we Live By? I remember the portions I read at Wheaton struck a chord with me, the overtones of which have never quite ceased ringing in my ears. So I've decided to go back and look at the thing again and then to try to see where it sits vis the contemporary linguistic/psychological/sociological field today. If anyone's interested in talking about it or reading it with me, that'd be awesome. Otherwise, perhaps some of you could at least tell me if they've heard anything about how Lakoff is read these days. Is he, as one Michael J Edelman (a reviewer on Amazon) claims, "the aging bad boy of structural linguistics," who has unsuccessfully tried to "recast himself in the role of a social theorist" trying to force his linguistic methodology into a new field? [1] Or is the book to be "considered to be one of the most intellectually honest of any book in print, for it unashamedly deals with commonsense notions of how the human mind deals with the world" [Carlson]? Do these somewhat pedestrian analysis equally miss the mark?

Anyway, I'm interested in understanding a bit more about the way we as humans understand the world around us via metaphor (or even if metaphor is the best way to talk about the way we understand and operate socially).

Hemingway: "The Gambler, the Nun, and the Radio"

"Religion is the opium of the people. He believed that, that dyspeptic little joint-keeper. Yes, and music is the opium of the people. Old mount-to-the-head hadn't thought of that. And now economics is the opium of the people; along with patriotism the opium of the people in Italy and Germany. What about sexual intercourse; was that an opium of the people? Of some of the people. Of some of the best of the people. But drink was a sovereign opium of the people, oh, an excellent opium. Although some prefer the radio, another opium of the people, a cheap one he had just been using. Along with these went gambling, an opium of the people if there ever was one, one of the oldest. Ambition was another, an opium of the people, along with a belief in any new form of government. What you wanted was the minimum of government, always less government. Liberty, what we believed in, now the name of a MacFadden publication. We believed in that although they had not found a new name for it yet. But what was the real one? What was the real, the actual, opium of the people? He knew it very well. It was gone just a little way around the corner in that well-lighted part of his mind that was there after two or more drinks in the evening; that he knew was there (it was not really there of course). What was it? He knew very well. What was it? Of course; bread was the opium of the people. Would he remember that and would it make sense in the daylight? Bread is the opium of the people."

Inflammatory Idea of the Week

Hopefully not too inflammatory.

I decided I'd like to know who, if anyone, you guys find interesting out of the field of presidential candidates and, if anyone looks worth voting for in a way more substatial than "at least they're not...", why you find them interesting. This is, of course, just preliminary thoughts about people we won't be voting for or against for months, but I thought it would be interesting to hear what you guys think. That's how democracy is supposed to work, right? Citizens discussing their leaders in the common marketplace of ideas and all that. And since we already fight about religion, why not add politics to the mix. (It would also be a special treat for me and Andy who otherwise only see Republicans on TV or occasionally in business class when we get on airplanes.) We live in the most powerful country ever; we should be doing this kind of thing.

If you don't have any favorites at the moment, what are the factors that will determine who you vote for (or against). What do you care most about in an administration? (This really kind of sounds like an online dating survey, doesn't it?)

Crazy Idea of the Week

In classic Jonesian form, I bring you [dum da da dum]: Crazy Idea of the Week! (Coye, you're right, that font would be super sweet). As such, you can expect never to see [dum da da dumb] Crazy Idea of the Week! again; and if again, then perhaps again in a year and a half.

So without further ado, I bring you [dum da da...forget it]:
Ok, have you guys seen the current trend of video blogs popping up around cyberspace? Of particular note are Rocketboom and Mobuzz, though these both only represent a sliver of the possibilities behind the medium. Well, I was thinking how fun it would be to try our collective hand at writing and producing a little video blog of our own. What would it be and how would it be structured? I haven't a clue, but it is a crazy idea of the week, thus, this has been, [dum da da dum]Daaaaaave's Crazy Idea of the Week! [buy all our play-sets and toys!]

An Ex-Parrot?

So, inspired by Dave's latest poll (which I seem to be the only one to have voted on... even Andy is awol, apparently), I thought I'd make a little poll-like inquiry myself. Since I lack Dave's omnipotent administrative powers, this will have to be in the form of a post rather than a nifty bar graph in the margins. I take it from the occasional bursts of responses that pop up on the blog that there are still a lot of guys who check it out at least semi-regularly. So why no posts? Why such seldom comments? Is it a matter of boredom with the blog or wanting to disassociate yourselves from Coye and TEFKAMS or general bridge burning or what? Is there anything that would actually spark some renewed interest in it? More personal updates, book discussions, sociopolitical discussions, cake recipies, popular inventions, cheat codes for Metroid, the Cheat, more TEFKAMS, less TEFKAMS, more screaming in TEFKAMS posts, more inanity, less inanity, more discussions of inanity, more ex-parrots, what? Because we could just rename it "The Dave, Coye and Andy Show" but I know that the three of us don't want it to go that way. These are your friends, here, and we'd really like to hear from you. Something.

archival research and restitution

TEFKAMS said... AAAHHHH! Once my friends, long, long ago, I decided to tell you the story of my humble origins. It was an emotional story of a boy, looking for love and acceptance, who was chewed up and spit out by the cruel, cruel soul-killing machine that we call the Hollywood establishment. It was a heartrending tale, and one that I had never told. To anyone. Ever. But I once found kindness and acceptance in the halls of Traber 6, and so I shared my story and narrated how I came to be the Mr. Satan you knew and… tolerated. I was so young, so naïve.

To my chagrin and astonishment, my story did not reach sympathetic ears (or eyes, I suppose) on T611, but instead was eviscerated and torn from these pages. Dear reader, I was stripped of my voice and my dignity that day. Without a warning, without an explanation, I became the only contributor to ever have my words expunged from the blog. Flung into the ether, as if they never were. Chastened, I protested my lost voice by also giving up my name. I became TEFKAMS.

And there was nothing offensive about my posting. It was actually rather clever and amusing, if I must say so myself (and I must, since you can no longer go back and read it for yourself). So, why, I ask myself, is a posting that offends and alienates the readers here (by design, it would seem) afforded so much better treatment? Warnings. Time for consideration. I was never given any of these things. And no post of mine caused people to leave our community (except Mr. Satan, of course). AAAAHHHHH!!!

I am a fan of posting on the blog (and I’d like to see more of you write, too!) and I am as big a proponent of artistic freedom as the next disembodied entity. But if there needs to be a line drawn to distinguish acceptable content on our site, this photo helps us to see where that line might be.

AAAAHHHH!!

So, about that Einstein Fellow...

Steve came up with this fantastic idea to read some Einstein this summer and talk about relativity—that enormously interesting idea which, along with the quantum mechanics of the ensuing decades, shaped what has come to be known as the century of physics. But he followed that great idea up with a rather dumb one: outsourcing the implementation of the project to me. It has sat as a task on my iGoogle todo list for a couple of weeks with no action on my part. Sorry for dropping the ball.

But now that Steve is back from vacation (the pictures were great, by the way), and Dave should be back from Maine this weekend, and I’m still where I always am, it might be a good time to turn our attention back to Dr. Einstein. As they say, there’s no time like the present.

If you’ve forgotten, Steve provided these great links to the 1920 English translation of Einstein’s 1916 book Relativity: The Special and the General Theory: MS Word format, MP3 files, or Podcast. Or you could go to your local library.

Einstein wrote of this book in 1916 that "the present book is intended, as far as possible, to give an exact insight into the theory of Relativity to those readers who, from a general scientific and philosophical point of view, are interested in the theory, but who are not conversant with the mathematical apparatus of theoretical physics.... In the interest of clearness, it appeared to me inevitable that I should repeat myself frequently, without paying the slightest attention to the elegance of the presentation. I adhered scrupulously to the precept of that brilliant theoretical physicist L. Boltzmann, according to whom matters of elegance ought to be left to the tailor and to the cobbler."

For those who are interested—and several of us have expressed some interest in this endeavor—perhaps we could spend two weeks or so on part one of the book, which encompasses the special theory from 1905, before moving on to the more comprehensive general theory that Einstein finished in 1916. Please post comments, questions, reactions, connections to other things you know in science and/or culture and history. I'll leave it to you whether we want to make observations as separate posts with comments in response, or a big, long comments thread. I don’t want to make this really formal, but I also know from experience that without some sort of framework this discussion won’t have the traction it needs. So start reading, and we’ll talk more over the next couple of weeks about Herr Einstein and his world-changing theories.

Marvin K. Mooney

I'm currently in Amarillo, staying with my folks, and I saw a Dr. Seuss book here that I bought for my niece a few years ago. The book reminded me of a quasi-parody (Geisel helped write it himself) that Art Buchwald published in the Washington Post in 1974. I will refrain from parodying the parody myself, but it would be fair to say that it reminded me of another prominent middle initial...

Richard M. Nixon Will You Please Go Now!

Memory Application Beta almost there

Hey fellas. Check out the memory application I talked about a few comments ago. Now it integrates full ESV text using my special sauce. Single click a paragraph to get scrollable text up top, double-click to see the full text of the paragraph all together. Romans 1-8 is up there as a beta. I'm hoping to talk to the ESV online folks to see if they'd want to take this thing any further with me.

If you're at all into memorizing scripture, test this out and see if it helps. any suggestions are welcomed.

enjoying a vacation in Maine-- dave

OK, I couldn't resist...

There's a pretty good chance that this will just amuse Steve and Adam, but that's worth something in my book. You might remember in college that the Star Wars Gangsta Rap started as an audio file, and then someone found it on the internet with the addition of some pretty lame animation. Well, now the animation is much better. Wait for the Storm Troopers raising the roof toward the end. It's worth it.

On this day in history...

In 1960 the Ohio Art Company took Arthur Granjean's invention--which consisted of a couple knobs, some aluminium, and a plastic screen--and turned it into the Etch-A-Sketch. Suffice it to say that the guy that drew this puts the sad little doodles of my childhood to shame.

I'm Speechless... in a good way

It did not give of bird or bush

So I have what probably qualifies as a mandatory update announcement:

I just got an email from the editor of the Wallace Stevens Journal, and they are publishing my article on Stevens, memorialization and the World Trade Center. It's not the largest journal, but publication counts as a major career milestone in the humanities, so I thought I should share it with you guys. The earliest it would be out will be Spring 2008, but I could (today, if I wanted) start putting it down as a "forthcoming" publication on my CV.

And I am still up 2-0 against Andy in the frolf books. That particular poison wasn't a banned substance until AFTER the match; it was totally legal at the time.

Bloomsday in Three Acts. By TEFKAMS. Act III.

The following day, what event captured the attention of this rabble?

Media Beckett.

Why was the group drawn to this particular event?

A girl. Of course.

And what illustrious literary figure was in attendance?

Paul Muldoon.

For what reason did said poet attend?

Unknown.

Did any conversation take place between him and our heroes?

Mr. Muldoon enjoined Andy to wake him if he should fall asleep, as the room was dim.

Andy’s reply?

Affirmative.

Were other visages visible, more or less famous than the august Irish poet?

Portraitures of former Texas governors, among them our current emporer, GWB.

What was the reaction of those assembled to this portrait?

Variously: consternation, amusement, horror.

At the close of the panel, did the girl whose presence had drawn them together continue to occupy Andy, Coye and TEFKAMS throughout the evening?

Indeed.

What allusions were made regarding the woman desired?

Andy: Ahab chasing his white whale.

What machinations did Coye engineer for the purpose of securing precious moments with the girl?

Cell phone messages left on the bat bridge.

Parking space sought endlessly.

Birthday bash crashed to no avail.

More cell phone messages.

More searching for parking.

For what reason did he meditate on schemes so difficult of realisation?

It was one or his axioms that similar meditations or the automatic relation to himself of a narrative concerning himself or tranquil recollection of the past when practised habitually before retiring for the night alleviated fatigue and produced as a result sound repose and renovated vitality.

Alone, what did Coye feel?

The cold of interstellar space, thousands of degrees below freezing point or the absolute zero of Fahrenheit, Centigrade or Réaumur: the incipient intimations of proximate dawn.

And then, what did Coye hear?

The double reverberation of retreating feet on the heavenborn earth, the double vibration of a cell phone harp in the resonant lane.

What was his response?

Joy. Elation. Terror.

Was Ahab able to find the object of his obsession?

Yes.

Bloomsday in Three Acts. By TEFKAMS. Act II.

Upon waking, what did TEFKAMS do?

Woke Andy, who finished editing paper and saved several redundant copies for eventual transfer from digital to material storage.

And Coye?

Also awoke. Consulted bus schedule. Orchestrated transportation to campus. Provided English department printing resources. Entertained the trio with various stories, academic and otherwise.

Were TEFKAMS and Andy able to register for the conference?

No. Andy was the only official conference participant.

What was TEFKAMS reaction upon hearing this news?

Negligible.

Which of the three carried out the duty of presenting research and ideas?

Andy.

Was his performance successful?

Yes. The assembled host neither fell asleep, nor asked questions designed to discredit the answerer.

Were each of the panelists as successful?

No. The second of the series of presenters was asked a simple question, supportive of her argument. She proceeded to admit, little by little, that her ideas about FW sprang from her own (ordinary) family upbringing, and that everyone should have experienced the same sort of childhood. She spoke on and on, digging deeper and deeper into a quagmire of her own making, at one point loudly shouting out: “let me impose my normativity on you!” (Imposing one’s normativity on anyone, as you might guess, is frowned upon in academic circles.)

How did the trio react?

Andy: tried to keep eyes from bulging noticeably. Shook head in dismay, then settled back to enjoy the show.

Coye: doodled with abandon.

TEFKAMS: jumped up on the presenters’ table and performed a jig of extraordinary exuberance and volume.

What lessons did each derive from the experience?

Coye: bring more pens for doodling.

Andy: never read Finnegans Wake.

TEFKAMS: If people already suspect you are a fool (on account of reading FW), be not quick to open your mouth, lest you prove them right.

What transpired after the close of the panel?

Coye left TEFKAMS and Andy to their own devices. The pair attended more conference sessions, partook of lunch.

How did they take leave, one of the other, in separation?

Standing perpendicular at the same door and on different sides of its base, the lines of their valedictory arms, meeting at any point and forming any angle less than the sum of two right angles.

What sound accompanied the union of their tangent, the disunion of their (respectively) centrifugal and centripetal hands?

The sound of the peal of the hour of the day by the chime of the bells in the Austin tower.

And then?

Coye faced Andy for a riotous game of frolf, which included fording a stream, freeclimbing a rock wall, and dodging the discs of impaired players.

Who won this battle of wits and skill?

Andy.

Was it not Coye who emerged victorious?

He did, but his nefarious plot was later revealed and his victory annulled by the 611 College Town Frolf Gaming Board Rules Committee.

By what machinations did Coye unduly intervene in the fair play of the match?

Laced Andy’s disc with a poisonous pigment that steadily weakened this clearly-superior player even as it dyed his hands an unnatural hue.

Was this scheme efficacious?

It was. Andy’s commanding lead was suddenly sundered as the carcinogen was absorbed.

What took place after this disputed contest?

The two prepared for two-stepping at the broken spur.

Where was TEFKAMS?

The narrator has chosen to redact his activities of that afternoon.

What play of forces, inducing inertia, rendered departure undesirable for Andy?

The lateness of the hour, rendering procrastinatory: the obscurity of the night, rendering invisible: the uncertainty of thoroughfares, rendering perilous: the necessity for repose, obviating movement: the proximity of an occupied bed, obviating research.

What reason did Andy give for declining Coye’s offer of dancing with Joyceans?

That he was a danceaphobe, hating partial contact by immersion or total by submersion into the metaphorical streams of gyrating humanity. Also that he was quite tired.

Bloomsday in Three Acts. By TEFKAMS. Act I.

By what means did TEFKAMS find himself embracing urban life in the nation’s tenth healthiest city on Bloomsday?

Commercial hyperterrestrial conveyance by way of Detroit, Boston, Detroit, Bloomington, Indianpolis, Dallas, Austin.

What action did TEFKAMS make on his arrival at his destination?

Saluted his host. Proceeded to the golden city, wherein was housed the earthly belongings of the same.

What discrete succession of images did Coye meanwhile perceive?

TEFKAMS struggle with Andy for dominance. Andy’s defeat. Disturbing release of psychological effluvia.

What supererogatory marks of special hospitality did the host show his guest?

Relinquishing his symposiarchal right to the living room couch presented to him by his only parents. He substituted the old white wicker chair from his dorm room days at Wheaton. A dollar here or there. Removing his iron from the neither reaches of his closet.

Was the guest conscious of and did he acknowledge these marks of hospitality?

His attention was directed to them by his host jocosely and he accepted them seriously as they made libations at the house of spiders.

What two temperaments did they individually represent?

The Bacchanalian. The Apollonian.

From which (if any) of these mental or physical disorders was the host not totally immune?

From hypnotic suggestion: once, waking, he had not recognized his sleeping apartment: more than once, waking, he had been for an indefinite time incapable of moving or uttering sounds.

After partaking of liquid refreshment, what action was undertaken by the pair?

Boarded Coye’s Mustang for an aggressive return to his domicile.

What did each do at the door of egress?

Coye unlocked the door. TEFKAMS turned on the light.

For what creature was the door of egress a door of ingress?

For a spider and sundry microbes.

ALBERT EINSTEIN'S RIDDLE (for Dave)

ARE YOU IN THE TOP 2% OF INTELLIGENT PEOPLE IN THE WORLD? SOLVE THE RIDDLE AND FIND OUT.

There are no tricks, just pure logic, so good luck and don't give up.

1. In a street there are five houses, painted five different colours.
2. In each house lives a person of different nationality
3. These five homeowners each drink a different kind of beverage, smoke different brand of cigar and keep a different pet.

THE QUESTION: WHO OWNS THE FISH?

HINTS

1. The Brit lives in a red house.
2. The Swede keeps dogs as pets.
3. The Dane drinks tea.
4. The Green house is next to, and on the left of the White house.
5. The owner of the Green house drinks coffee.
6. The person who smokes Pall Mall rears birds.
7. The owner of the Yellow house smokes Dunhill.
8. The man living in the centre house drinks milk.
9. The Norwegian lives in the first house.
10. The man who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps cats.
11. The man who keeps horses lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.
12. The man who smokes Blue Master drinks beer.
13. The German smokes Prince.
14. The Norwegian lives next to the blue house.
15. The man who smokes Blends has a neighbour who drinks water.

ALBERT EINSTEIN WROTE THIS RIDDLE EARLY DURING THE 20th CENTURY. HE SAID THAT 98% OF THE WORLD POPULATION WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO SOLVE IT.

Traber 611 World Frolf Championship Circuit

I had the pleasure of hosting Andy and TEFKAMS in Austin last week (Andy, at least, came for the North American James Joyce conference... I'm not really sure what TEFKAMS was doing here). I think that either one of them could vouch for the comfortableness of my couch and the timeliness of my airport chauffering, in case anyone else might be contemplaing a trip down to bat city for a conference or music festival. The bats, unfortunately, were not as punctual. In fact, they absolutely refused to come out from under the Congress Avenue bridge on Friday night (all 2.5 million of them having a good laugh at all the humans standing around on the bridge for nothing), so we got to stand around with a bunch of strangers and think of all the things we could drop on the boats floating beneath us-- a good time, yes, but not what we set out for that evening. Fortunately, the Blues Allstars are always on top of their game, and we got to hear a very nice set from them at the Continental Club. Good times were had by all.

Now, for the title piece: I once again came out victorious over Andy in our multi-city disc golf competition (known to lovers of silly words as frolf). Andy played a remarkable thirteen holes and led the entire game up to hole fourteen, at which point he self-destructed and I was able-- with some rather skillful tosses-- to recover from the sizable gap created by my erratic play and win with a respectable five stroke lead. That makes the series record Coye 2, Andy 0. He claims that I poisoned his frisbee with a toxic yellow dye that only took effect on the back nine, but such claims are ludicrous, libellous and should be referred to the governing body of the 611 College Town Frolf Gaming Board Rules Committee. If anything poisoned Andy, it was his unprecedented proximity to so much Finnegan's Wake during Friday morning and afternoon. We saw firsthand how the Wake can cause spontaneous self-destruction (an unfortunate question and answer session, to say the least).

The tasty burritos enjoyed by all, the two-stepping skipped out on by Andy, the coffee drank, the women chased, the parking spaces sought endlessly-- all of this must, unfortunately, be left out of the current post (I still have several pages of French grammar to read through tonight), but, needless to say, it was all great. Nous avions un bon temp.

Adieu, mes amis.

Continuing From Andy's Book Idea...

I figured since Andy's book post is so far down the page, no one would see any comments I left there, so I'm continuing the discussion anew here.

I say we all try to wrap our minds around Einstein's Special and General Theories of Relativity. So I propose we read a book he wrote, called "Relativity: The Special and General Theory". An excerpt from the intro:

"The present book is intended, as far as possible, to give an exact insight into the theory of Relativity to those readers who, from a general scientific and philosophical point of view, are interested in the theory, but who are not conversant with the mathematical apparatus of theoretical physics. The work presumes a standard of education corresponding to that of a university matriculation examination, and, despite the shortness of the book, a fair amount of patience and force of will on the part of the reader."

You can get it as MS Word format, MP3 files, or Podcast. Or go to your local library.
(btw, www.librivox.org has REALLY taken off. Their catalogue of audio books is really growing fast now. George MacDonald, Father Brown mysteries, Robin Hood,...great if you have an ipod)

I finally got a new room key

It appears someone changed the lock on my door here at 611. I had to go to ... (oh crap I'm trying to continue the analogy between Wheaton and Blogger, but I've forgotten the name of the division at Wheaton that takes care of stuff like making keys and mowing lawns. Was it Physical Services? I forgot! Well after all, it has been 4 years!) ...I had to go to Physical Services, and it took forever for them even to recognize that I was waiting there. But now I have my key, and am back in business.

(in other words, when we switched to new blogger, i wasn't able to get an account for a long time, but now I'm all good).

Facebook

So I took Dusty's advice and started looking for friends on Facebook. Up 'til now, Facebook has been a voyeuristic entity for me--a way for me to keep tabs on my students and find out if they were saying anything about me or my class. (Apparently I am not interesting enough to warant a Facebook group... at least not yet.) Fun, but I didn't really get the point.

But I took the plunge, and started asking people to be my friend. And Dusty's right--there are a lot of long lost people out there. The greatest find, so far, has been Rudy. That's right, Rudy is alive, and he became my Facebook friend. Not bad.

That is all.

DD

DD...you had better share the news with us....

BTW T6, if you do not have a facebook yet, you really should get one. You are definitely missing out on the huge gathering of many people we know, including long lost people from 2E / 1S.

Dave Update

For the one or two of you still reading this, here's a little update on the expanding jonesian world here in South Hamilton, MA.

mayTen: Isaac David Jones was pulled by the headSholdersAndTorso into this world by Eva, a midwife at Beverly Hospital ten minutes before two o'clock. We got to hold him too; and take him home with us. Ha! Crazy. Since then it's been the kind of go-go-go you feel when you're in the passenger seat of the car, and you're already ten minutes late to a meeting you don't want to screw up. So it's been hard to sit down and write because writing usually calls out for some sort of settledness vis. one's subject. Yet here, even in theory I don't have the mental capacity to settle down around any subject, much less around the subject who just woke up screaming since Andrew is crying because he doesn't want to go to bed because his grandparents and his aunt are here with their computers, their projects, their conversations and their help. No longer mayTen, I know, but how did I get here? Crazy. But beautiful; Isaac is startlingly beautiful because he is here, and because he is my son, and because his head is so incredibly small and well defined that he looks like he is a shrunken 900-year-old man who glowers around the room with his strange expressions.

mayFourteen-mayEighteen: Even though she knows I am an new father, my boss scheduled me to open the coffee shop every day this week. That is, to get up at five-fifty AM after a night of waking up between sleeping. It's bearable for two reasons. First, I know I won't die on the job: I've already passed through the gauntlet of the worst-possible-scenario-actually-happening (i.e. there by myself, ten customer-deep waiting line of impatient stares, wrap order, frappe order, "oh, can you make that two wraps?" and then the register runs out of paper without warning (rendering it useless until the paper is changed)) and didn't die. Two, because I know I won't be working there past the summer. In fact, I have managed to secure a web-development contract (retainer based) with my brother-in-law's branding company in Cambridge, MA. So it's bearable.

mayFifteen- the house my Grandmother gave sold. This is good news because it means I am no longer in debt; though it won't pay off all of next year because the house is in Eureka, Kansas, and who wants to live in Eureka, Kansas? Exactly. So we didn't get very much, but what we got helps.

maySixteen- As I mentioned, I was able to get initial agreement toward a contract with Soldier Design, a branding company in Harvard Square. I am now cramming my head with as much knowledge of PHP and MySQL as possible so that I can begin building database-driven websites. I've gotten pretty good at Flash since I began contract-to-contract work (mainly writing actionscript in flash) and I've done a number of sites and components for Soldier Design with this. The contract will give me a fifteen-hour-per-week retainer so I can quit my other jobs and focus on web development as my sole source of income (which is very very nice).

OK, we're going to watch dream girls now. Maybe I'll add more in the comments soon, depending if anyone signals that they actually read this!

finis

Today I finished the requirements for the Master of Arts degree at the Univeristy of Texas at Austin. I guess it requires some stamping and filing before its officially official, but I'm pretty much a master of the univers(ity). I can feel the power flowing through my veins. Andy, why didn't you tell me about the power. It's incredible. It's intoxicating. I feel... just capital.

I also started looking for a different place to live. All this power can't fit in an apartment anymore, so I'm trying to find a house to rent. I'll need a roommate or two to pull it off, but I'm sure that with all this power I should be able to persuade someone to pick up part of my rent.

I shot a roll of film this afternoon, so I might have some cool Austin pics to post in the near future. We need some more pictures up that aren't of me in a skirt. In the meantime, I'm out, Reno style!

breaking and entering

So someone broke into my car today. I have a case number and everything. The cops took fingerprints. Which I find hilarious. I don't know what they thought they were going to steal. They didn't even take my Altoids. Or the sweatshirt in the back seat. I think they might have been after my ice scraper. But I fooled them. I always keep it in the trunk.

I turned in the master's report yesterday, which is splendid. Sort of had my heart broken the day before, which isn't. No worries. A few days, a few more pages written, and I can seek the heavenly bliss of oblivion. Consciousness. Burden. uhg

Summer Book?

So here's an idea: since we seem to be struggling to find topics that capture our collective attention, and given the fact that academic semesters are drawing to a close in the next couple of weeks, is anyone interested in selecting a book of general interest (theology, ethics, politics, etc.) that we can read together and discuss this summer? We could agree to read a couple of chapers a week (or whatever seems feasible), and post responses, questions, observations--all that good stuff. Even if only a few of us do it, it might be a nice way to transition us from a current events/anything that strikes our fancy format (which seems to be struggling) to one that is more organized and content- and discussion-rich. Clearly, I'm in. Any other takers? If so, what books do you suggest?

Chairman

I thought I'd let everyone know that my former roommate, the Chairman, will be living in Los Angeles and attending UCLA this coming fall. It looks like a very good gig for him since his brother is already living in So Cal and they can share an appartment, etc, etc. We should really try to get him to post his own updates now that he isn't in the PRC. I'll work on it.

Goodbye

Hi friends, the time has come for me to spend a semester off of the floor. My attempts to start a doctoral program this fall did not pan out, and I will be starting a job search as soon as I can find some free time. I am removing myself from the online community soon since it might hamper my job search. I thought I might not have to take this step, but the most recent prior post made my decision an easy one.

To everyone, I wish you the best. Given what I know of a few dating relationships, I am hopeful to be reunited with some of you in 2008 for a wedding or two or three. Thanks to everyone who has contributed to this blog. I have a lot of good memories - the P, WC, and MK cards; Logey's house on fire; our mission for Greenspan; naming Dave's child (good final choice); the personal updates; I could go on. Please pray for my job search. Keep centered on Christ.

Grace and peace, Strauss

My contact info is available through the college's alumni website except the email address is yahoo or verizon.net, not juno. I will likely continue reading the blog.

fishing

this should get a response

YHWH

Since it is the season of lent, we said the decalogue during the liturgy this morning. The third commandment is translated like this: "Thou shalt not invoke with malice the name of the Lord thy God." (The answer, of course, is "Amen. Lord have mercy.") Now, my fundigelical upbringing ingrained it into my head that the third commandment (always given as not taking the Lord's name in vain) means essentially "don't curse, don't use profanity" (or, since I was raised in west Texas, "don't cuss" would be more verbatim). Invoking God's name with malice sounds like something quite different. It sounds more like, "We need to make sure that homosexuals can't get married in this country because God said marriage is a man and a woman." It sounds, in short, like using God's name as an excuse to follow your malicious heart and not welcome your neighbor. Less an arbitrary restriction of personal piety and more the royal law of love that commands love your enemy, welcome the alien, I have washed your feet (next Thursday) go and do likewise. Just a thought, but a hospitable thought.

The Importance of State's Rights

You might recall that last year an international group of astronomers concluded that our solar system does not have nine planets as was previously thought, but eight, plus a whole bunch of sub-planetary detrius floating around. This was particularly bad news for the space-object-formerly-known-as-Pluto (SOFKAP), which was reclassified by this body of astronomers as nothing more than a big rock and is no longer considered a planet. My very educated mother just served us nine pizzas, indeed!

For concerned fans of the planet Pluto, it seemed that nothing could be done to save the little fellow from demotion. Science had spoken. All was lost.

Until now. The state of New Mexico, in a courageous assertion of state's rights, has decided to thwart scientific opinion by recognizing Pluto as a planet while SOFKAP is in its jurisdiction. Forget gay marriage-- if the New Mexican legislature has its way, the SOFKAP scandal will become the biggest issue in state's rights for a long time to come. As the Las Cruces Sun-News reports, "Under a measure approved by the House on Tuesday, Pluto will regain its status as a planet as it passes through New Mexico skies. The joint memorial also declared March 13 as "Pluto Planet Day."" That's right, whenever SOFKAP, the little planet that could, finds itself over the New Mexican skies, it can hold its head up high, a planet once again. And I, for one, am glad that New Mexico has taken a position on this issue. When will other states, or even the federal government, stop wasting time with absolutely pointless legislation and get on with the important work of governing? Thanks to New Mexico, planets of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. Bravo!

Living on a Prayer

So I'm watching George Mason play in the Colonial Athletic Association basketball final. If they win, GMU gets to dance again. It's fun being a student at a D1 school. As for further school, I still don't know if I get to go on for more school. Hopefully, I will know soon.

Happy Birthday, Steve!

Happy Birthday, Stephen!

As you creep ever closer to your late twenties, keep in mind some of the people who died at twenty-seven (Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain) and get everything you can out of twenty-six. Suck life from the marrow bones.

Sake wa doko desko.


and then there's this...

Believing Scripture but Playing by Science's Rules

Today’s New York Times has an interesting article about Marcus Ross, a paleontologist who earned his degree at the University of Rhode Island, Believing Scripture but Playing by Science’s Rules. There’s nothing particularly interesting about his dissertation (at least to me), but what is generating some controversy is his methodology—you see, he wrote a perfectly normal thesis about paleontology, separated from his religious beliefs. Or, as the NYT tagline puts it: “As a paleontologist and a creationist, Marcus R. Ross has produced academic work that contradicts his own beliefs.” I wonder if this article raises any thoughts for us about the ethics of positioning ourselves in academic discourses, of “passing,” to borrow a term from critical race studies, in order to get degrees, jobs, grants, promotions, etc. when we know that full disclosure (i.e. “I graduated from Wheaton College”) would be, as they say, the kiss of death.

Some excerpts:

“Dr. Ross is hardly a conventional paleontologist. He is a “young earth creationist” — he believes that the Bible is a literally true account of the creation of the universe, and that the earth is at most 10,000 years old.

“For him, Dr. Ross said, the methods and theories of paleontology are one “paradigm” for studying the past, and Scripture is another. In the paleontological paradigm, he said, the dates in his dissertation are entirely appropriate. The fact that as a young earth creationist he has a different view just means, he said, “that I am separating the different paradigms.”

“He likened his situation to that of a socialist studying economics in a department with a supply-side bent. “People hold all sorts of opinions different from the department in which they graduate,” he said. “What’s that to anybody else?””

from Tyler

Hey, who wants to go canoeing?

The coolest thing EVER!

You must see this skateboarding bulldog! I'll never be half this cool.

Traber611 Online is dead! Long live Traber611 Online!

Wow. This new format looks great. It's almost as good looking as... oh, never mind. You guys wouldn't want to hear about that sort of thing.

Aeijtzsche Update

Well, Coye sort of asked how I was doing in another thread, so I thought I'd do an official update.

As many of you may or may not know/remember, last April I moved from Grand Rapids to Los Angeles to start working with a small company that handled the Beach Boys archival library. All was well for a time, and getting to know the culture of LA has been fun. What kind of place is this? It's like another country in some ways, or perhaps another universe. For instance, the phrase "no, you can't bring your dog in here" is not understood by naitive Angelinos. A mile in the rest of the country is equal to roughly 2.7 miles here when using powered transportation. People don't understand the concept of "snow".

On the other hand, LA is a place like any other, with lots of completely regular people and such.

It ended up being kind of a tough experience for me in the end now, about a month before Christmas, it became apparent that the company I was working for was about to break up. And, just after the new year, the company formally split up and became a non-entity, and I essentially lost my job, though I still am on call for the occasional errand from my former bosses.

All of that kind of took the wind out of my sails. I don't really feel like living here anymore. I like the area a lot in terms of geography and weather and interest, but I just don't want to be here right now.

I sold some guitars and am living off of the money from those sales. Contemplating my next move. As much as I dislike academia (sorry, Dr. everybody) I'm pretty close to trying to get some degrees and some qualifications. One problem with that is I still don't really have any idea what I want to do with my life, making any sort of specific pursuit difficult to choose.

Anyway, I think I may return to Grand Rapids for a while, do some music-related recording, and whatnot. We'll see.

Any of you DC guys know somebody in the FBI? I wouldn't mind being an elite special agent if somebody could hook that up.

Peace out.

Wilfred Owen

The Parable of the Old Man and the Young

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an Angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son...

The DC Informant

Sometimes, people seem to forget that there is a T6 enclave here in DC (among all of the talk of reestablishing a physical T6 community). I'm going to take the liberty of providing a post Morehouse wedding update since they haven't been active bloggers. We (Luke, Brett, DeGroot and myself) were all together last night along with DeGroot's girlfriend for Emily Tangen's birthday dinner at a Moroccan restaurant. Luke, Brett, and Dave all see each other on a very regular basis since they all share an apartment. The hang out of choice is Mario Kart for the GameCube at their place, but Luke and Dave are also big into going to a local soccer bar on weekends and do not discourage Brett and me from joining them. Unfortunately, Dave can't do the athletic stuff much these days, because he is in need of knee surgery and will be out of commission for a couple of weeks after the surgery. Please keep him in your prayers.

It looks like I will be the one most likely to depart from the T6 fellowship first. Brett was considering applying to law school, but he decided not to because working to save his boss's job ate considerably into his LSAT study time. I'm currently waiting to hear back from econ Ph.D. programs after applying to 8 of them. None of the schools are in the DC area. I've been asked a few times if I could go anywhere, where would I go, but I'm trying to avoid answering that question until I really know my choices. Plus, if all continues to be going well, I'm hopeful to be taking someone else's opinion into consideration besides my own. Yes, if any of you are thinking it and don't already know it, I have a girlfriend, who I think is very special. I like talking about her, but if anyone wants to hear more, I'd prefer to fill you in further some way other than the blog. I will say one more thing though that when I went out to Chicago to visit her for a post Christmas vacation I got to see Brad Kaspar. It was very encouraging to hear how his missions work in the Czech Republic is going.

Congratulations!!

AAAHHHH!!! Hearty congratulations to our collegue and friend Coye, who passed his qualifying exam yesterday (no doubt with the flyingest of colours!!!)!!! Although both his and Andy's intelligence pale in comparison to my staggering cognitive faculties (after all, the whole concept of instutionalized hazing...er, qualifying examinations... was my doing!!!), his success is yet worthy of high accolades and much praise.

William Butler Yeats

"Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
O never give the heart outright,
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost."

Games, boys. Games.

New Website Up

Finally.

www.davidnathanaeljones.com