“Crap” Reaches Christian Expletive Hall of Acceptance

10/22/2008, 10:30 am -- by | 4 Comments

–ATLANTA, Ga.

Angry and frustrated Christians can curse easier today as “crap,” long considered vulgar and sinful, was elected to the religion’s Expletive Hall of Acceptance.

“This is a big day for ‘crap’ and the Christians who can now feel free to use it to express even their most righteous anger,” said Rev. Jerry Johnson, expletive voter from the Southern Baptist Convention and longtime supporter of the punchy euphemism for defecation. “I for one look forward to hearing what the Bishop T.D. Jakes can do with this now-fully sanctified word.”

With the vote, “crap” joins “dang,” “heck,” “good grief,” and the still-controversial “gosh-darn” as first-ballot selections to the Hall. Not only does the decision pave the way for “crap” to be used with impunity in bulletin inserts, at church potlucks, and on the covers of countless shallow, doctrinally unsound books, but it also retroactively negates an estimated 350,000 threats of the use of soap in the mouths of impudent youngsters.

“The voters clearly realized that ‘crap’ is a true triple threat,” said George Ito, linguistics professor at Wheaton College. “The word combines the powerful release of a plosive consonant with the naughty tinge that comes from its mild vulgar meaning, and — most importantly to evangelicals — it has the benefit of not actually being, uh, the ‘s-word.’ You can’t get away with using that one unless you’re that darn Tony Campolo!”

“Golly, he’s a loose cannon,” Ito added.

The Hall was created in 1954 for two purposes: to recognize and honor those offensive words which had become so common that Christians gave up trying to avoid them, and to provide a convenient way to judge one another based on their words. “Before the Hall, it was anybody’s guess which words were okay; I didn’t know who should get a sneer and who should get a hug,” said Johnson’s wife, Mabel Lou. “The Hall just makes this judgment crap so damn convenient.”

“What? That one’s not okay yet? Oh dear me.”

“The difference between ‘shucks’ and ‘sucks’ may be just one letter, but it might just mean everything eternally,” added Rev. Jerry. “At least until next year, when we look at ‘sucks’ again. I think it’s got a pretty good shot actually.”

The Johnsons also noted that the vote on “crap” does not extend to the phrase “holy crap,” which is still “very, very wrong.”

In related news, “freaking” was denied acceptance yet again in this, its 20th and final year of eligibility.

Quote of the Day, 10/22/08

10/22/2008, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

“Only our concept of time makes it possible for us to speak of the Day of Judgment by that name; in reality it is a summary court in perpetual session.” — F. Kafka

A Syntax Question

10/21/2008, 10:26 am -- by | 3 Comments

“Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.”

This sentence is sensible and grammatically correct. Can you explain how (without cheating)?

Best of Job: My Worst Teacher

10/21/2008, 9:30 am -- by | No Comments

Originally published in May 2007.

Whether holding my hand over the fire pit of his analogies or examining broken twigs on the trail of his meandering reasons, never track his logic could I.

I always felt like I was a few days behind him, pressing through the dark forest of my instruction — trusting, hoping that his point lay just ahead, around the bend. I never enjoyed the chase, and there’s a thin line between being challenged and harassed. I came to a particular point in my trek when I determined that when a point is that well-hidden and obscure… when it requires that much angst to merely understand it… only a fool would spend his time rotting in the woods trying to catch it. The best in life is easily understood, and truth despises fog.

My worst teacher.

A man who bristled at the notion that you might think differently than him, he sent you his own copious notes before class and asked that you not take any others. They distracted him. If a question endeavored to stampede the discussion away from his notes, the energy he’d employ to corral us back into line was almost pornographic. Bullying, effacing and no-kid-gloves sophistry were never below him.

Sadly, these tactics were never below me either, and we butted heads to such a degree that he eventually asked me to drop the class. Success in his class was conformity to his thinking, a convincing imitation of it, or the old B-minus silence — none of which seemed a workable solution to me. My parents had taught me to speak my mind and to be aware and wary of socialist thinking. To him I was ruined.

While he had earned tenure, a doctorate in sociology, and ample respect from his colleagues, in turn he asked his students to simply piggyback on his experiences, judgment and morality. To just trust him. Our own conclusions were not encouraged, but headed-off.

But perhaps in being the worst teacher of my life, he is slowly morphing more readily into the best. He is the one who taught me that when it comes to faith, love and logic, I will only embrace them when I am tracking the truth — not, alone, someone else’s version of it.

Joke of the Day, 10/21/08

10/21/2008, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

A young man had just started his own business. He’d rented a beautiful office and had it brilliantly decorated. Sitting inside, he saw a man come into the lobby.

Wishing to appear busy, the young businessman picked up the phone and started to pretend he was working a big deal. He shouted out huge figures and made giant commitments. After a few minutes, he hung up and asked the visitor, “Can I help you?”

The man said: “Sure. I’m here to install the phone!”

Quote of the Day, 10/20/08

10/20/2008, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

“The reason governments recognize marriage in the first place is to promote the well-being of children in the setting most conducive to their flourishing. There may or may not be great value in other types of relationships: those between friends, or heterosexual lovers, or relatives who take care of each other. But why should the government grant recognition to one subset of those non-marital relationships ”” those between people of the same sex who are sexually involved? What goal does such recognition serve?” — National Review

Joe the Chick Tract

10/20/2008, 1:05 am -- by | No Comments

 

©1984-2008 Chick Publications, Inc. Reprinted without permission as fair use (parody).

{democracy:304}

Four Weeks (Part Eight)

10/17/2008, 4:00 pm -- by | 1 Comment

Read the series in parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

To me, California has always existed in a sort of hazy myth. Crowded, temperate, and seismic; home of heroic, half-remembered President Reagan; it was as far removed from my marooned and icy New York youth as ancient Ur.

As a boy, I spent hours planning cross-country road trips, following the example of my father, who crossed the continent at 18 and has the unpaid San Francisco parking ticket to prove it (although, he quickly reminds me, it wasn’t his car). Not many years later, the state was home to my first requited crush, a kind girl from Napa who, it turned out, was by far my wiser. And after my college graduation, my first plane ride was there, courtesy of my grandmother, who gave me a week out West with several close friends, where we climbed Tahquitz and strung up Chinese lanterns in preparation for a wedding.

Seven years later, those not-so-newlyweds had three children, and visiting their home would not only allow me to see them all and return to the California of lore, but also to meet the only Bweinh!tributor I did not yet personally know — the delightfully rational Kaitlin. All told, easily sufficient motivation to weather a return itinerary that would wing me from LA to New York to Phoenix in just under 36 hours.

Have you ever returned to a place you loved, only to find that the utopian glow of nostalgia had made it only a modest imitation of the splendor you remembered?

Me too. But this wasn’t like that at all.

No, instead, returning was all the more wonderful. I had the autonomy to do whatever I liked (including a few trips to a sturdy swing set, as well as buying and devouring a surprisingly readable translation of Don Quixote) and repeated opportunities to help my hosts, which I particularly welcomed, since my entire July had begun to feel like one unending impingement on the kindness of others. I even had the good fortune to witness a late-night thunderstorm, rumbling down from the mountains in a pyrotechnic volley.

As always, the people were the highlight, full of grace and good humor whether we were slinging trash bags into the dump or playing games around a kitchen table. I have never yet regretted a day spent with a Tate (that winter evening we slept on the floor of the unheated lakehouse is another story), Lisa and I defied predictions of a heated melee, and Kaitlin proved even more engaging than her well-crafted (if sadly rare, on these pages) prose. Watching the four sisters interact was eerily like being with my three brothers, with only slightly more talk about fashion.

Before I flew out Sunday evening, the Tates took me to Sarah’s childhood home, where her mother treated us to a delicious dinner, then watched the kids while we headed to the beach. We walked the Santa Monica Pier, past the carousels to the very end, where the brisk sea breeze whistled through the lines of the men and boys fishing for halibut off the side.

And as the sun set into the endless blue Pacific, I ran through the sand and leapt into the crashing surf, plunging beneath the warm ocean, no longer just a legend. A few hours later, as I climbed aboard the plane back to my homeland, I could feel in my brow, taste on my lips, the salty dross the sea had left behind.

I taste it still. I will feel it again.

Joke of the Day, 10/17/08

10/17/2008, 7:00 am -- by | No Comments

What do you call a monkey in a minefield?

A baboom!

Mo-Neigh

10/17/2008, 1:12 am -- by | 2 Comments

The silliest part about this story about a horse artist isn’t that his painting, “The Big Red Buck,” was selected to appear in a prestigious international juried competition.

It isn’t the art critic who wrote that the horse “clearly grabs me and holds me as I watch him paint with the fire of Pollock.” That’s just creepy.

No, it’s this quote from his owner “and assistant” — “It’s not about novelty anymore. It’s about his validation as an artist.”

Uh…yeah.

I did enjoy what one art curator said, although probably not for the reasons he intended. “There may not be a lot of thought behind the process, but one could also ask the same question about Pollock or De Kooning or Rothko.”

Well, yes. Yes, one could. In fact I do. Every time I look at their “art.”

If a horse can do your job as well as you can, you should probably consider another line of work.

Battle of the Bands LXXIV

10/16/2008, 2:42 pm -- by | No Comments

The next group from Acts is below; moving on is The Residue of Men!

{democracy:303}

Bible Discussion — Acts 17-18

10/16/2008, 12:30 pm -- by | No Comments

This week, Bweinh.com moves on to the next two chapters of Acts.

PREVIOUS DISCUSSIONS:
Genesis: 1-4 | 5-9 | 10-14 | 15-18 | 19-22 | 23-26
27-29 | 30-32 | 33-36 | 37-39 | 40-43 | 44-46 | 47-50
Exodus: 1-4 | 5-8 | 9-11 | 12-14 | 15-18
19-22 | 23-26 | 27-30 | 31-34 | 35-40
Romans: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 (I)
Ch. 8 (II) | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | Ch. 15-16
Luke: 1:1-38 | 1:39-2:40 | 2:41-3:38 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
11 | 12 | 13 | 14-15 | 16-17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24
Esther: 1-2 | 3-5 | 6-8 | 9-10
Acts: 1 | 2 | 3-4 | 5 | 6-7 | 8 | 9-10 | 11-12 | 13-14 | 15-16

 
INTRODUCTION:
David:
We get to meet a man named Apollos, Paul’s chief rival for the claim of authorship of the book of Hebrews.

Connie:
As Paul evangelizes his way through the countryside, we get a fascinating look at early 1st-century life and philosophy. It sounds a lot like our country today. Substitute making the rounds on The View (NYC), Leno (LA), and Oprah (Chicago) for Athens, Berea, and Corinth, and you have a similiar situation.

Some receive him, listen patiently, and gain eternal life. Others mock and ignore, even going so far as to try to prevent others from hearing. Sounds a lot like the talk show circuit to me.

 
SOMETHING YOU’D NEVER NOTICED BEFORE:
Steve:
When Paul was persecuted in Corinth, the story ended very differently than many other places — the ruling Greeks let him off scot-free and instead beat the troublemaking synagogue leader!

Connie:
Paul gets a haircut! Fulfilling a vow, Paul has his hair cut off (18:18). Matthew Henry says the reason was to celebrate God’s protection as he fulfills his mission from vv. 9-10.

 
BEST BAND NAME FROM THE PASSAGE:
Josh: Jason’s House
Steve: Strange Ears
Connie: Apollos
David: O Ye Jews. Also, I don’t know about a title, but it would be hard to have a band without “fellows of the baser sort”…

Continued here!

Spam Subject Line of the Day

10/16/2008, 12:10 pm -- by | No Comments

Why to wait?

Three Links (Vol. 8)

10/16/2008, 11:39 am -- by | 2 Comments

— I am seriously considering live-blogging the third-party presidential debate this Sunday. I can’t even imagine what those folks will say, but I bet it’ll be more interesting than another Obama-McCain slapfest.

— Slate helpfully brings us an article on the etymology of “fail” as a noun. “The highest form of fail ”” the epic fail ”” involves not just catastrophic failure but hubris as well.”

— I can’t play golf in real life — or at least I was pretty bad the one time I tried — but I enjoy the new fully-functional online golf game at the World Golf Tour. The gameplay is startingly similar to NES Championship Golf, except with beautifully rendered landscapes replacing cartoonish trees. So I guess it’s not all better.

Behind the Scenes

10/16/2008, 10:00 am -- by | 2 Comments

–ITHACA, N.Y.

It\’s the kind of thing that drives a coach crazy; the sort that has him sitting at a bar drinking free Salvation Army Cokes, reminiscing about what might have been. Last year, Bweinh! had a strong season, nearly winning several major awards — and then, during the offseason, busted the salary cap by re-signing several free agents, among them Tom.

“We originally signed Tom out of college; his numbers in the combine were incredible, off the charts really,” said Steve, coach, general manager, and owner of the fledgling website. “He had a great rookie year and signed at the league minimum, but we knew arbitration would nail us, so we signed him to a big contract over the offseason.”

Tom had a strong training camp and started the season with a bang — but then he was injured in a freak accident. Said Steve: “He did some great clashes for us last season, and we were going to move him to left guard, taking over some of the more liberal clash positions from MCB — but then he wrote that little blurb for the new ‘bwog’ feature . . . and the rest was history.”

The blurb, of course, was the subtle, yet uproariously humorous PT Cruiser quote, by far one of the funniest items in the two-week period. But disaster struck when Tom dislocated the tip of his index finger polishing the sentence; a relief writer was called in to finish the last few letters. The next day, he was flown to Sloan-Kettering to be examined by nationally renowned finger experts, and the news wasn\’t good.

“There was more trauma than anyone realized at the time, actually some damage to the nail, causing it to discolor as it has grown out,” Steve noted. “Not only that, but it was extremely painful, which was, uh, the real problem.”

By “the real problem,” of course he means the rumor that in treating his injury, Tom has become addicted to the painkiller Advil, complicating his return to the site. When reached for comment, Tom spoke of needing to “return to the lab,” refusing to answer any questions about ibuprofen dependency.

They say it’s lonely at the top, and no one knows that better than the coach: juggling lines, redrawing plays on the fly, and wondering who will next land on injured reserve. Next week, we’ll look at center MCB — who recently changed his name to MB, but has yet to get league permission to wear it on his jersey. Last year he got off to a quick start, but his offseason marriage has forced him to be placed on the “physically unable to perform” list.

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