WALL E

Bravo, Pixar. Bravo.

I have long been a fan of Pixar movies. They know how to tell a good story, and with style.

With that in mind, I must say that WALL E is Pixar's best movie yet.

The creators have managed to look back on the history of cinema and look forward to the future of consumerism and affluence in popular culture - in a kid's movie.

The movie starts with a bleak look at the future of earth. The camera flies over a city overrun with garbage, piles of compacted trash reaching higher than the surrounding skyscrapers, and every thing in sight is produced by the same conglomerate - "Buy N Large". This wretched landscape stands in very stark contrast to the cheerful music playing behind it. Our hero, a trash compacting robot with a pet cockroach, triggers adds as he walks by, and we discover through fading holographic videos that humanity left earth because we had so completely poisoned it.

So it goes that WALL E works day in and day out to clean up, saving little pieces of trash - a spork here, a light bulb there. But here's where Pixar shows their true brilliance. This movie is not just an environmentalist critique of our culture. WALL E is Charlie Chaplin. NPR had this to say in their review:

There's actually a nice parallel between this largely silent film and Chaplin's first sound film, Modern Times. In that one, the silent clown used the soundtrack mostly for music and effects, not for speech, just as Pixar does here. Chaplin only let you hear a human voice a couple of times, and only on some sort of mechanical contraption — say a closed-circuit TV screen — to emphasize its artificiality. It was his way of saying to the sound world, "OK, everybody's doing this talking thing now, but look how much more expressive our silent world is."

Humans are left out, except as videos, until nearly halfway through the movie. When humans do appear, they are lazy and overweight. It seems that life in space is everything it promised to be - with hover chairs, nobody moves; with video screens built into these chairs, nobody has face-to-face conversations anymore; having never seen the earth, nobody knows what "dirt" is. The film-makers took The Jetsons and decided to show what life would really be like in a world where nothing was more than a button away.

On top of the scathing critique of consumerist culture, WALL E is full of allusions to other movies. Of course, Charlie Chaplin is the inspiration for WALL E, but he looks an awful lot like Number 5 from Short Circuit. Auto, the ship's autopilot, is H.A.L. 9000 (Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey) - right down to the glowing red dot. And continuing the ode to 2001, Johann Strauss's "On der schoenen blauen Donau" and Richard Strauss's "Also sprach Zarathustra" both recieve their moments of glory in the film. Life on board the ship is somewhere between The Jetsons and Star Trek. Even the animated short (a Pixar tradition) gives a wink and a nod; the entirety of Presto is reminiscient of Bugs Bunny and a Merrie Melodies short, though Presto's magic hat resembles more closely that of the sorcerer from Fantasia.

As the credits role, we are treated to the evolution of art - from cave paintings to post-impressionist, van Gogh-esque scenes, the credits continue to show Pixar's brilliance and finish the story; the credits are a well-animated post script in a culture that walks out as soon as the credits roll.

One of the more interesting aspects is the importance of touch in this movie. WALL E spends most of the movie trying to hold EVE's hand. The humans afloat in space have become so dependent on technology that they no longer even converse face-to-face. As such, two humans (one voiced by Pixar's favorite actor, Cliff the Mailman) begin a relationship at first touch, and later rediscover the ship's pool and the joy of splashing water.

WALL E also serves as what one of my professors would call a "chaos monster". For the humans of the film, everything seems to be going fine. Not that things are fine, but nobody realizes how completely screwy things have become. Enter WALL E, who upsets the status quo - first, with the other robots, and then with the humans. As he roams the ship, everywhere he goes becomes a site of change. Like the children in Narnia, WALL E's presence disturbs those around him, awakening them from the trance-like assistance that has become life.

Pixar has a long tradition of telling stores with the lessons that need to be told - rites of passage, acceptance of yourself and others, courage, and the importance of remembering your past (seriously, who didn't get that from watching Toy Story 2?). With WALL E, Pixar has set a new standard for not only artistry, but themes in children's movies. Hopefully, other production companies will follow this shining example.

Rock on.

I Don't Want To Face the Truth, And You Can't Make Me

Although I probably should.

Following the posting of my grade for RELI2004, I am officially half way through my junior year.

Holy crap.

And what makes it weirder is that I've only been in college for two years.

Gah.

Anyway, at this point, it's time to start looking at what I'm going to do after graduation (my word, I shouldn't be talking like that - I'm too young!). Since ninth grade, I've been saying that I'll go to seminary. But it wasn't until my dad, in his usual fashion, made me face reality a year ago and asked, "Which seminaries are you looking at?"

What do you mean I have to choose? Can't going to seminary be like going to college? Why don't I just apply to the schools that all of my friends are going to and the one that give me free tuition?

Which is about where I am today. I've sent out for some information to a few schools and gotten information back from even fewer. Those schools are: Asbury Theological, Regent College, Fuller Theological, Duke Divinity, and Wesley Theological. I sent out to Candler (Emory), but they haven't sent me anything yet. (Edit: Actually, it just came in the mail today.)

I like Regent - mostly because it's in the Pacific Northwest. I like Asbury because, well, it might mean financial support from the UMC. Fuller has a lot of different campuses - campi? - which is always nice. Duke is...well, it's Duke. It wouldn't be much of a move from Athens.

Which brings me to why I'm posting this on teh Interwebs*. I need help/advice. If you're a pastor or seminary student who just happened to stop by, please, leave a comment. I'm always open to suggestions. Of course, I'm going to talk to my pastor and my campus minister and a few of my professors as well, but every little bit of input helps. And please, direct other people this way - as I said, I'm always open to suggestions. And who better to seek it from than people who've been in this place before?

Rock on.
*Oddly enough, "Asbury" is marked as wrong by the Firefox spell check, but "teh Interwebs" is not. Go figure.

Down in the Valley

Last week was spring break here at the University of Georgia, and as the complete lack of posts on this blog indicate, I didn't really do much of anything. I made the classic student's mistake - taking a break to sleep and watch TV. I had fully intended to clean my apartment (only half-done), catch up on German (not done at all), catch up on reading (I did read, just not much), and post on here every day (huh - about that...). Instead, I spent a large amount of time at two friends' apartment watching them play Super Smash Brothers (I don't like video games, but this one makes a good spectator's sport) and watching episodes of Firefly (good show). I slept in until at least eleven almost every morning. By most accounts, it was a good week; it just didn't go as planned (they rarely do). Oh, and did I mention the tornadoes? Nothing says spring break like hunkering down in the bathroom with a wool blanket over your head - actually, it reminds me of the time in Kansas when I was working on a term paper - the siren went off, so I took the laptop and the dog to the basement and just kept typing. Wait - wasn't I talking about something else? Oh yes.

My favorite part of the break was when I went hiking. Those who know me know that I like to hike - there has yet to be a break in which I haven't packed some dried fruit and a bottle of water to go wander around the woods. This week's goal was Tallulah Gorge. I first expected the hike to be a steep descent, a nice path along the bottom, and a steep climb. Easy, right?

Well, I woke up early and drove to the gorge, registered with the park office, and started the hike. And by all means, the hike down was normal - steep stairs, a bridge over the river, and more stairs to the base of the waterfall. But as had been explained to me, I had to cross the river again because only one end is hikeable. The means of crossing said river? Hopping from boulder to boulder. I cross the river and realize that there is no trail - the only means of making it downstream is scampering over boulders and the occasional patch of dirt. And, at one point, the wall of the gorge itself. When the time comes to cross the river again, there are no boulders and there is no bridge - you have to take off your boots, roll up your pants, and wade across. Unfortunately, the water was about thigh-deep and the bottom of the pool was very slick. Oh, and did I mention that you do this at the top of the waterfall? So, with nearly no margin of error, I start to cross, slip, and end up four-legging my way across to the other side. And then the climb up - no stairs, no trail, just more boulders. On the way up, I see a group of vultures a la the Jungle Book. They took off at the sight of me, and then, a happy thought - they may be waiting on the carcass of a fresh bear kill - this ended up being one of the few times in my life that I was very happy to be wrong (if you know anything about bears, you know you don't want to sneak up on a bear and its fresh kill).

So why am I telling you this? Because I did learn something. First, the next time I do this hike, I'm taking some water shoes and two other people to help with crossing the river. Oh, and a towel.

Second - sometimes we end up in bad situations. And we end up there so fast that it takes us by surprise. When I crossed the river on the boulders, I put myself in a place where the only way to go back was to go forward. And I didn't know it until that jumping to that final boulder. So, stuck on the gorge floor, I started down stream, and things didn't improve. There were quite a few moments where were it not for good balance and better shoes, I would have fallen into the river. And when, as things seemed the most hopeless, as I climbed out of the river, I hoped to see my easy way out. Instead, I saw a slight trail that ended in a mountain of very large rocks. Getting out was going to be anything but easy. But the only way back was forward.

Spring break was slightly stressful - for me, but more so for a few friends. I watched as an apartment and a friendship sank further into despair, and still pray that good comes out of it. And just as that should have been settled, it was put on hold to pray for and comfort another friend in her tragedy. And to these friends who very suddenly find themselves in bad, and tragic, situations, I can't explain why they are there or that getting out is going to be easy. I can say that there's a reason, but I can't say what that reason is. I can only tell them that getting out is going to be hard, it's going to hurt, and worse, there's no going back. I can only tell them that God will give them the strength to get through it, that if they lean on him, they will overcome. I can promise them that I'll be there to help them. Really, it's all any of us can do.

Rock on.

Recapturing My Childhood

Over the summer, my parents moved to Korea. I ended up in my own apartment with my own car and the family dog. I ended up forwarding mail and having to take care of a lot of things that most college kids don't even think about. And I really enjoy the responsibility. It's stressful at times, but I like it.

But every once in a while, I need to relax. And every once in a while, I wish I could go back to sitting on my grandfather's bed watching Fox Kids on a lazy summer afternoon. Summers in Georgia bring back memories of vacations and time being spoiled by my grandparents, and everyone needs that.

So, over the summer, I bought Malt-O-Meal-brand bags of kid's cereals (off-brand Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, and Lucky Charms - the stuff that was reserved for summers and Saturdays) and found an online version of Batman: Mask of the Phantasm. And then, the next day (well, I still had cereal and milk left...), I tracked down Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker - which reunited the voice talents from the original show. And, though it shouldn't be possible, it was as disturbing as MotP.

I grew up watching Batman. My generation is perhaps the most loyal to the series. We grew up with Batman: The Animated Series, the ground-breaking cartoon version. It was dark, it was edgy, it was as close to film-noir as a cartoon will ever get. It combined this 1930s detective feel with a pulp serial futuristic tone. Most people call it "art deco". I just know that I like it. It is the first American cartoon to have pistols instead of laser guns. It came to define many of the Batman villains - they're over-the-top, like all comic book villains, but they maintain their humanity, both in mind and body, making them the most believable cartoon villains of the past few years. I like Tim Burton, but I don't think he had any business directing Batman, and most kids my age agree. Mark Hamill is the Joker. And when he gave Heath Ledger's portrayal his blessing, there was a great sigh of relief let out on college campuses everywhere. Batman Begins is probably so popular in my age group because of how close it comes to being Batman: TAS. The music is inspiring - dark, moody, dramatic - it defined the series almost as much as the art style. It's music that has themes and builds off of them - the type of stuff lost on anyone who grew up after the introduction of the new Robin (yes, I occasionally classify age groups by the Batman they grew up with).

So, anyway, Batman is my childhood. So as I get ready for a final tomorrow and face the end of my second year of college (where did the past two months go, anyway?), I feel old. People born in a different decade from me are in college now. People who were born while I were in middle school are starting elementary school. I'm still a teenager...for a few months. And those months are flying by.

Now imagine my glee when, just as I need a break, even for an evening, I find six episodes of Batman - and the first few episodes - on DVD at Kroger for only $10. So, being a rational college student, I bought some pizza and the DVD. And so, if you'll excuse me, I've got some memories to live in and a pizza that's getting cold.

Rock on.

Happy Birthday Emo!

Today is the day when millions of dollars are being spent on "loved" ones and those who don't get anything spend twenty-four consecutive hours listening to emo music.

Yes, it's true - my MP3 players is filled to the brim with depressing songs about being alone.

And what's with all of the pink????

Ahem. Moving on.

I really don't like this day. I'm sure if it wasn't my nineteenth consecutive Valentine's Day single, I might have a slightly different view, but I still want to vomit at the sight of commercialized romance.

So in honor of this horrendous event, I offer up a theory on why so many of my friends/classmates/kids-my-age are getting married. While still in college. And I say kid because most of them are under the age of twenty-five. Those of them in college haven't graduated yet.

As a single male in this age group, I ask myself – rather, I look at my other single friends and I shout - “What in the world is wrong with modern relationships?

And now I have an answer.

Modern Westernism and especially that in America preach a form of rugged individualism - we have to depend on ourselves even though God created us to exist in community. Kids are taught that we have to be able to make it on our own, that having to rely on others is a sign of weakness. You can look at most athletes and tell that they would rather, if they could, go it without a team. Our friendships are superficial, based around musical tastes, fashion sense, and socio-economic status. White middle class kids hang out with middle class kids. Our conversations circle around the arbitrary - weather, grades, teachers, sports, concerts, and movies - and the slightly-less-than-arbitrary - who's sleeping with whom, who's dating whom, who knows how to correctly use the word "whom" - ok, that last one's really just my group of language-geek-friends (yes, they do exist).

So by the time we get to a point where we're dating, we're so starved for a connection that we're willing to date anyone who so much as says hello - assuming that they are also of the same socio-economic status. Now, at this point, I should say that we like to say that race, class, and the like don't matter - but rarely will this ever be acted upon. And when we find it, we are willing to go all in, because we have tricked ourselves into thinking that saying "I love you" makes it true. We see it as the easiest way to cement the relationship. And we see marriage as that final step that we are oh so eager to take. Marriage is something official - sealed with a kiss and a piece of paper that we have to go to court to undo.

And then the awful, hideous truth sinks in - we don't actually love this person - we just like the idea of loving them enough to fool ourselves into this vain game of deceit. So, we go to court. We undo the marriage. And then we go back to step one, looking for a new relationship to help us get over the old one.

And the Church isn't helping with this - we tell ourselves that God has blessed marriage and that it's good. Oddly enough, we listen to Josh Harris and tell ourselves that dating is bad - so instead of having an actual relationship, we have this stiff, awkward period of more than friends, but not married. And we rush into marriage thinking that it's ordained by God and that we followed all of these neatly-defined rules. Because we as Christians have taken such an emphasis off of community that we only talk about what Jesus said about self. We all know it's easier to love God and ourselves if we don't have to worry about those pesky neighbors.

Let us not forget the Church's love-hate relationship with sex. We love to talk about how it's God's gift to married people. But anything outside of that, we hate. So we dangle it like a string in front of our youth groups, saying, "See how great this is? But not until you're married." It's like baking a sheet of warm brownies only to tell the child waiting expectantly that he can't have any until after dinner. Don't get me wrong - you there, with the copy of I Kissed Dating Good-Bye, pay attention. I'm not saying I support sex outside of marriage. I'm just saying that if we want kids to not have sex before marriage, we should probably be a little more open about it. Until then, kids are going to have premarital sex. And worse than that, they are going to get married just to have guilt-free sex. And they'll enjoy their honeymoons a lot. And then they'll get home and realize that their marriage is based purely around a teenage infatuation and the desire to have sex.

Studies have shown that teenage Christians (active-tense, as in they are Christians when they do this) lose their virginities sooner than non-Christian teens. And the Christian divorce rate is as high as the national average. And we wonder why.

Now for the "But of course, there are obvious exceptions..." - yes, yes there are. My friends are getting married this summer - he's a college grad working on a second degree and his fiance is an undergrad. And I highly expect them to have a strong, healthy marriage. I wish them God's blessings. But they are the exception, not the rule.

I wish I could end this on a hopeful note, I really do. But I don't see any hope outside of a major change in our culture. And if all of the pink candy in Kroger is a sign, it's not going to happen very soon.

Rock on.

Drew has: Voted. Plus one: Sticker

For the weird title, blame...most of my video game geek friends. I call them such with love.

Anyway, I am pleased to announce that Georgia has open primaries. Which means that, as an independent, I got to vote. Cool.

When you don't live on campus, it's a lot easier to get to your polling place, mostly because it's closer to campus (for some people) than the polling place for those who do live on campus. I sense a bit of a disconnect somewhere...

Anyway, in light of the fact that so many state elections have major flaws, I thought I'd make a few observations and suggestions.

1. Get rid of the caucus system. Getting to your polling place is hard enough. You shouldn't have to devote an entire night to it. This set-up almost inherently rules out poor single parents, a lot of shift workers, and quite a few subgroups. What if you can't find a sitter for your three year old? What if you've got a shift during the caucus? People may have prepared responses for these objections - in fact, I'm sure of it - but the incredibly low voter turn out in states that rely on caucuses supports the claims taught in every high school civics class. Everywhere.

2. Get rid of closed primaries. Yes, I know that primaries pick party candidates. But we live in a two-party system (in fact, not in theory - along the same lines, screw you, Duverger). There is a much easier way to do this - you get to vote in one primary. Just one. You get to support one candidate. The end. Some use the argument that a person from Party A could vote for a candidate in Party B that they think is less likely to win in a national election. Like, if a Republican voted for Lieberman in the 2004 Democratic primaries. However, this argument holds very little water because in a closed primary system, the same person is still capable of the same thing, they would merely have to change their party affiliation on paper. To go back to the example, said Republican would only have to change his status to Democrat, then vote for Lieberman in the primary and Bush in the election. And under the current closed primary system, if a member of Party A is fed up with his party, he can't vote for a candidate from another party without filling out useless paperwork. Some of my Libertarian friends (the ones who are actually registered Libertarians, not the ones who complain about drugs not being legal) can't vote for Ron Paul in the primaries because they're not Republicans. Don't get me wrong, I don't like Paul, but his supporters should be able to support him.

3. Move all of the primaries to one day. This back-and-forth crap is annoying. We focus more on where the candidates stand in comparison to their fellow party members and not focusing on where they stand to their real opponents. We spend too much time talking about how important the first states are when, in reality, they aren't. Even pundits admit to this. Save time. Save money.

4. Make election day a state/national holiday. I voted between classes. I know people who aren't voting because they don't have a break in classes long enough to get to their polling places. Enough said.

5. Give people, especially university students, the option of an alternative polling place. Granted: I was incredibly happy to find out that my polling place is on the university bus line. But then again, it used to be on my way to class. Last year, it was out of walking distance and not on a bus line. If students, faculty, and staff of a college/university could vote on campus, we would notice a tremendous rise. And guess what? It could be easy. Step 1: Fill out registration card. Step 2: Check box requesting Application for Alternative Polling Place. There's no reason a campus of 35,000 students (not to mention faculty and staff) shouldn't have a polling place. Most students I know aren't voting because it's too much of a hassle to get an absentee ballot. We can change that.

6. Get rid of super-delegates/electoral college. Let the voters pick the candidates/presidents. Hillary is leading Obama by a tremendous amount just because most of the party leadership likes her. President Bush beat Al Gore because the electoral college isn't bound by the way the state votes. We call ourselves a democracy, but we have these huge structures getting in the way of it.

End rant.

We complain about low voter turnouts, but do nothing to fix it.

Mostly because if we did, people would start paying attention. And then they would realize that the two parties in power aren't that different and do very little and get paid way to much. And that would be bad for the two parties in power who, well, who make the election rules.

Rock on.

Dawgs and Gators and Bears - Oh My!

First off, congrats to the UGA football team. I figured we wouldn't put up fourteen points against Florida, let alone beat them. Go DAWGS!

Now on to the more interesting part of my fall break.

Instead of heading down to the world's largest outdoor cockt - erm, sorry President Adams - Florida-Georgia Football Classic (I like the WLOCP title better), I headed up to the North Carolina mountains for some hiking and time alone with God while enjoying his handy work. So on Thursday, the first day of Fall Break, I did what any college student would do. That is to say, I woke up at six in the morning, hopped in the car with my dog, and drove four hours to spend the day without a computer, an MP3 player, or even a GPS. Just me, my dog, and the beautiful Blue Ridge Parkway. I was originally aiming to hike along Mount Mitchell, but inclement weather changed that. So, still in the spirit of a college student, I pulled over at the first trail head I saw and hiked for two hours along a primitive trail (appropriately title the Big Butt Trail), with nothing more than a few red placards and fallen trees to guide me, without seeing or hearing another person until returning to my car. Of course the problem with trails like that is that animals tend not to stay away from the road less taken. On my way back to my car, about fifteen minutes out from the pull-off I had parked in, I came upon a small black bear. Luckily, it had heard me coming and wandered off just as I realized, "Hey, that's a bear. And it could kill me." I made it safely to my grandparents' house and then called everyone I could think of to say, "OMGZ!!! I SAW TEH BEAR!!!1!"

The next day brought a much-needed day off, including a tour of Lake Lure (think Dirty Dancing) and a very nice dinner at a local hotel. Saturday was more hiking at Chimney Rock. No where near as isolated as the trail on the Blue Ridge Parkway, nor as cheap, nor as bear-ish, the views were stunning. I spent the day hiking almost every trail the park had to offer and enjoying the view of some of the most interesting rock formations to be found in North Carolina. Chimney Rock is one of those rare geological anomalies that has been purchased and turned into a park, but somehow has avoided the cheese-level of places like Stone Mountain. And the North Carolina Park Service has just bought the sight, so its nice mix of popular tourist destination and serene, tranquil retreat is secure.

This was the first real vacation I've ever taken by myself. Sure, over the summer I drove up to Columbia, SC, for the Harry Potter book release and to see my sister, but that wasn't so much a vacation as a - something that's not a vacation. I don't like driving, and mountain roads have always freaked me out, as much as I love the mountains. Especially when driving through a cloud. But I managed the drive quite well and even enjoyed the time driving through the windy, narrow roads of the Blue Ridge area. As cliché as it sounds, the first road trip really is a coming-of-age event. It's something that you do with your family most of your life (hardly a summer went by where my parents didn't toss my sister and I into a car and drive around for at least three or four days). To be able to set off on your own with only a list of destinations to guide you is one of the most liberating experiences that one can imagine. And after spending my summer in classes, the freedom was well-received.

People have places where they feel closer to God than others. For some, it's during a mass. For others, it's a modern worship service. Most people feel God's presence on retreats. As for me, it's nature. As much as I enjoy Athens, the constant sound of cars, music, and college kids on cell phones, the lack of any real place to get away from the city (even the most secluded part of campus is right next to a highway), and the eerie red glow cast on the sky at night make me feel isolated. But the freedom and beauty of nature gives me a sense of God's power and creation. Nothing man can ever make will amount to the awesomeness of the Grand Canyon or the beauty of the Appalachian Mountains in the fall. And after three days of being in the mountains, it was amazing what had the ability to move me. Something as simple as the sunrise while driving home this morning left me praising God - with Santana and Rob Thomas in the background.

Rock on.

Starbucks, High Schoolers, and Drew's Infamous Coffee Rant

Driving home from Kroger tonight, I heard an interesting story on NPR. Starbucks is considering marketing their products to middle and high schoolers. What I don't get is why people think this is such a big deal. Surely caramel macchiatos are inherently aimed at kids. The US will never cease to amaze me. In our attempt to seem more sophisticated (simulated culture, but I've beat that horse to death...for now), we have turned towards corporate coffee houses to produce drinks that we can (barely) pass of as coffee that amount to nothing more than liquid candy. I like a cappuccino or a spiced chai as much as the next guy, but come on, even when we do get coffee we dump so much flavored syrup, sugar, and cream into it that all we've made is a warm, liquid Werther's Original.

My first experience with coffee (namely, cappuccino) was while I was living in Germany. It was an occasional thing for when my family went out at night. This was normally during vacations. And it was good. But it was also bitter. If an American college student got one sip of straight espresso or a traditional latte, they would spit it out. There's a reason I didn't start drinking straight coffee (and by straight, I mean sans-sweeteners) until late in my junior year in high school - coffee is an acquired taste too strong for most young people - and many older people.

The satirist who discussed the marketing change made a few good points. Saying that he's been to too many birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese and that the café atmosphere would do American youth culture good, the reporter supported the idea (the downside, he mentions, being that kids who are already hyper might very well ruin the mood of the café). And I'm all for giving kids some culture. I take the success of SpongeBob as a sign of the falling of American culture and love the idea of ninth graders discussing philosophy as non-mass-produced music plays gently over the stereo. But is Starbucks really the best place for that? Starbucks, the mass-produced counter-culture? I enjoy coffee shops, I really really do, but because they offer this unique feel. One of my favorites is an old service garage in one of the prettier parts of Athens. But every Starbucks I've ever been in has looked the same, including the one in downtown Athens (and the one on the west side of Athens...yeah, we have a lot of coffee shops). I'm willing to bet that your local Starbucks has a light-stain hard wood for tables, the floor, and chairs. lamps hanging over the cash-register; a black counter. a selection of pastries on display to the immediate left/right of the register; and on the other side, five feet away, a black table where orders are delivered. It probably has trendy music for sale - really, it's just old classics repackaged, with some Nora Jones thrown in for good measure (no offense meant to Ms. Jones).

On another note, why do we wonder why kids are such discipline problems if we let them guzzle coffee, soda, and energy drinks? "Here, kid, drink this. I don't know what it is but it has three times the caffeine of a Red Bull." (On this note, they are now marketing caffeinated gum to college students). I can't really talk about coffee addiction too much - my daily habit is four cups, at least. But at least I waited until college. I was a one cup a day type of guy back in high school. Maybe a second if I went to a coffee shop later the day.

In short, I think if we want our kids to have an appreciation for the café culture, then we are going to have to reexamine our coffee houses. There's nothing wrong with a ninth grader enjoying a dark roasted coffee over jazz and a philosophical discussion with a friend, but if they (or we) think that Starbucks is high culture, we're very, very screwed.

Rock on.

Intro to Religious Thought (or: What They Don't Teach in Sunday School)

The academic study of religion is the most thoroughly depressing field out there. I'm pretty sure of it. It shouldn't be, but it is. They take everything you believe and show you how stupid it is to believe in it. All interpretations (at least according to my professor, and yes he means all, as in every, including those by non-believers) are wrong (yeah, he's a big fan of Nietzsche, for those who were wondering). What's weird is when you get home and realize you still believe, despite how incredible the beliefs are. There's an old joke I once heard, that if you have enough faith to still believe after going through Seminary, you have enough faith to be a preacher. I'm starting to think the same is true for religion majors. This reminds me of a mewithoutYou quote, "We have all our beliefs, but we don't want our beliefs; God of Peace, we want you."

The problem with the way we teach beliefs in modern churches is that we claim them to be fact. In the most conservative churches, it goes without question that Moses wrote the Torah, the world was created in seven days, we are the only religion to hold this view, there was a flood, we are the only people who believe in a Noah figure, the Patriarchs are all very real, we can prove that the Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, and the Bible has absolutely no contradictions, historical or otherwise. In reality, the Torah has four sources and probably more authors, our TWO accounts of creation coincide with accounts from all over the Near and Middle East, the Epic of Gilgamesh recounts a flood and an ark, there is not proof for any of the Patriarchs, least of all Joseph, who should have proof, and no proof of Israelite presence in Egypt. On top of that, the mention of iron and the Philistines should not be in the Torah, as neither would not be in Canaan until after 1200 BCE. Not to mention the fact that there are multiple versions of the texts we found at the Dead Sea, especially Isaiah, on who's prophecies much of our understanding of Jesus as Christ is based. It's quite sad to listen to the students in my class who haven't been introduced to these ideas until now. Their entire faith is shattering before them (though whether or not their faith should be based on creationism is another topic).

Then there are the ideas that nobody sees coming, no matter how progressive of a church they attended or how much study they do on their own. The idea that the Israelites worshiped multiple gods, that the Hebrew Bible affirms the existence of multiple gods, the idea that God had to wrestle a sea monster during creation, the suggestion that Noah's son slept with him while he was drunk, and the idea that Mary very possibly wasn't a virgin. Even though these ideas are not as wide-spread as the first, they'll still through you for a loop the first time you hear them.

So why isn't the Church teaching its members to think? Why is it that you don't hear these ideas until you get into the lecture hall? I'm not saying they should be a part of every sermon, but they are certainly things that older Christians should be concerned with. These are serious problems for our faith and if we want to be able to say we have a relationship with God and that we understand our faith and where it comes from, these are issues that need to be addressed.

On the issue of where our faith comes from, why is it that we don't look into the Israelite background of our faith? What makes Jesus distinct from all these other deities in the ancient world is not being born of a virgin or rising from the dead. It's the long, glorious history that culminates in Christ. Almost as if God looked around at all of these ancient cults and said, "Ha, watch this," and blew them all out of the water. If you don't learn about what distinguishes Jesus from others in the "divine man" genre of ancient history, then when you hear about these other "divinities", you face a tremendous crisis.

In Velvet Elvis, Rob Bell says our faith should be more like a spring than a brick, in that it should be flexible (and springs can be used for trampolines and to invite people to come play, where as bricks can only be used in walls, to keep people out). When we raise people to have brick-like faith, when it comes time for someone to need to reexamine their faith, it shatters. When a person whose faith is like a spring reexamines their faith, they survive. How do we make our faith like a spring? By learning about it.

Rock on.

Edit: Ben Witherington expresses his thoughts on a similar subject at his blog.
My friend Pat writes on a broader sense of Christian complacency over at Notes from Underground.

Reflections of the Student Formerly Known as a Freshman

First and foremost, I'm out of the dorms! That's the best news I've gotten since I was admitted to UGA. Though this is a happy moment, I am a little sad to be done with it. While I no longer have to put up with people loudly tromping through the hallway at all hours of the morning, I can no longer be one of those people. My days of running around Payne Hall in an all-out Lysol-spray war are over. Really, it's hard to imagine another place where such an act is allowable. And, at least over the summer, I'll miss my late night (ok, it was actually early morning) philsolphy conversations at my favorite coffee shop (the great thing about discussing ontology at three in the morning is that the coffee keeps you just awake enough to speak, so everything you say makes sense in some way).

Time has no meaning in college, except in philosophy and physics classes, and even then, it's debatable. As I said at the end of last semester, it feels like I haven't been here but a week, but at the same time, it seems like my friends have been my friends since childhood. Though the lectures seem to drag on forever, the free time flies by. Some of the friends I've made have already moved on (I hope Krista's enjoying the Peace Corps and that Amy likes working of Coca-Cola). Others are finishing up their time (Brian and Beth! Don't leave us!!!!) Still others are going to have to put up with me a little while longer (Kelly and Becca, Jason and Mike, and of course, my fellow Fres...erm...Sophmore group, and Jon (w00t for Philosophy and coffee!)).

While I can not and will not share everything I've learned in class (wait...I actually learned stuff in class???), most people have said, and now I can't help but agree, that classes are really not even half of what college is all about. Learning is no longer confined to the lecture hall.

Now, to all my pre-college readers (I actually have readers?), some advice:

• Get to know your roommate. I regret how little time I spent talking to Alex.
• It only takes a small question to spark a great conversation. Everything from God to grass is up for discussion. Enjoy this openness. And as I said, your education is not all about class.
  
• Community is essential. You're just a number to the university itself, but to your friends, you are more than can be expressed in words.
  
• Class may be optional. So is bathing. Nobody will notice skipping either occasionally, but do not make a habit out of it.
• Get a laptop. From taking notes in class to writing a paper outside on a nice day, it is well worth the investment.
• Dell hates you. So does Microsoft. Get used to it.
• Textbooks are horrible monetary investments. Therefore, use them in class. Otherwise, what's the point?
• YouTube is fun, but dangerous. Before you know it, it'll be 3 am and you'll have a test in five hours.
• Extracurricular events are great. Concerts, recitals, lectures, and conferences - again, learning is no longer limited to class.
• It saves nearly an hour of sleep to shower at night and go to bed in your shorts. This way, you just roll out of bed, grab a (clean?) t-shirt, sandals, and a granola bar and head to class.
• Sleep in on Saturday mornings. Nobody else is awake anyways.

I now have thirty-five credit hours under my belt, with thirteen more this summer. Life comes quickly and won't let up. This is why college is so important. Classes and maybe a job...to my fellow students, I remind us that we'll never be this free again. Let's make the most of it.

Rock on.

What Makes a Man?

One issue that has been on my mind lately is: What does it take to be a man? This is a question that I though I knew the answer to. But apparently, I didn't.

There are all sorts of ways to answer this question: biologically, legally, culturally, etc. All of these have set answers. But what about the most important way to be a man: in the eyes of God?

Giving it some thought, I think I may have figured it out. At least partially. Being a man takes wisdom and love. Wisdom to know and APPLY the Word. Love to love God with all your heart, mind and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself.

"Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding." - Proverbs 4:7
"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." - John 15:13

Rock On.

Graduation and Such

This weekend was, well, this weekend. I got out of school on Tuesday (w00t) and had Wednesday to do nothing (double w00t). Then my grandparents arrived on Wednesday night, I had Awards Night practice and Baccalaureate(sp) on Thursday, followed by FCA (yeah, I went to school at 6:45 after being released), Graduation practice, and picking up my sister on Friday. Saturday held the longest four hours of my life: Senior Awards Night. Then Sunday: Grajamanation (i is edukatet. i is a hi skool gradate!) and the awesomenastic party put on by the school. Oh, the fun.

And today? Uber sleep!

Random rambling about my week aside, there was something odd about Graduation. For the past few weeks (since Prom, really), I've had this feeling of, "Oh, crud. I'm not ready for this." But as I walked across the stage on Sunday night, those feelings kinda vanished. I realized that I'm going to miss my friends, but now I'm moving on to bigger things. No, I'm not ready to make it in the real world yet. That's what college is for.

Rock on.

Three Years In a Shoebox, Four Years On a Bookshelf

Today is the last day of my senior year. As with the end of each school year, I have turned in everythign: my JROTC uniform, my textbooks, and my library books. My locker has been cleaned out and is now back to the valiant shade of school-gray.

Looking back at four years of high school, I realized something. What do I have to show for it? All of my ribbons, medals, ranks, and other various uniform items from JROTC, three years, worth of memories, are sitting in a shoebox in my room. Four years worth of yearbooks and FCA ministry material now sit on my bookshelf. I can't help but think: Is this all I have to show for my time in school? A few books and ribbons?

Or is there something more? Is there something more to high school than just the activities that I was involved in and the classes I took? In fact, there is. Over four years, I have great memories. Everything from the pseudo-philosophical conversations at Bible study ("They will know we are Christians by are kilts") to the random with friends (filming hobos in Colorado) to the just plain weird in class (Mr. Wisner's analysis of the Smurfs as Communist). I can look back on high school and say that I not only learned the curriculum, but I also learned about life. I can discuss both the impact of World War I on the Vietnam War and why it's a bad idea to eat six Zebra cakes in under five minutes (don't ask).

Rock on.

Today, I am a Man (I Hope)

Today I turned 18. In my mind this is the most important birthday I will have. It ranks one out of three: 13, 18, and 50.

In Jewish culture, when a boy turns 13, he becomes a man after under going a Bar Mitvah. In today's society, 13 still marks the age at which a child gains more trust and responsibility.

50 marks a half-century of life, and all the knowledge that comes with it.

18, however, marks something else entirely. It marks the point at which a person can finally give back to society. Instead of just taking up resources, one can finally work to create them. Instead of complaining about the world, a person can finally change it. Instead of merely enjoying freedom, one can finally defend it.

Rock on.