I’m not sure if this really needs a comment.  However…

Obama = Antichrist?  C’mon people.

I’m currently working on reviewing a book which outlines the history of Catholicism in America.  Certainly no light task (the book, not the review).  As I plow through the 400 or so pages in this book, I continue to reflect on the nature of history…what exactly are we claiming to do when we do history?  What is good history?  What is bad history?  In my own field, New Testament, the question is equally valid although somewhat more difficult to answer.  As time passes, and events become more remote, determining “what actually happened” becomes more and more difficult.  I might even go so far as to claim that figuring out “what actually happened” is actually impossible.  When reconstructing an event, a movement, the context behind a text, etc., the historian is painting a landscape by looking through a relatively narrow window.  There are times when the window can become larger, and perhaps the historian may even stick her head out for a look now and again, but when returning to the canvas there is only so much that can be painted.  Some have better grasps on history than others, but the fact remains that history is far too complex to ever be completely accurate.

Now, you might be wondering about the title of this post?  Well, it involves a story that dates back to the year 2002, at the homecoming parade of my alma mater, Southern Methodist University.  It is a story of history gone awry, of a group of persons who were doing a sort of history but failing at every turn.

In this homecoming parade, as with many parades, there were floats.  A certain fraternity (that will remain nameless to avoid embarassing those who built the float), constructed a monstrosity that will forever be burned in my memory.  The float had a giant space shuttle, flanked on both sides with Apollo and Mercury rockets.  Any free space was filled with American flags.  On the front of this float, in bright, bold letters, was the statement, “United States — First in Space.”

I approached the president of the fraternity (who I later found out birthed the idea) and asked him about the float.  Specifically, I wanted to know whether it was a joke.  He looked at me and said, “No, its no joke.”  He raised an eyebrow at me, as if to say, “What are you talking about, stupid…don’t you know your history?”  I informed him as charitably as I could that America was not first in space.  Hadn’t he heard of Sputnik?  Panic overtook him, followed by a grin and the statement, “Yes, but we put the first people into space.”  I shook my head and said, “Haven’t you heard of Yuri Gagarin?”  He replied, “Nope, I haven’t.”  And with that he continued his walk.

History is written by those who have chosen to synthesize the facts, and their product can only be called an interpretation.  Sometimes, ignorance of the obvious can have terrible, embarrasing consequences, like the aforementioned homecoming float.  Other times, ignorance of the nuanced can produce equally interesting (and strange) results.

On occasion, I will wander over to ehow.com, mostly for a laugh…sometimes, I’m surprised at what I find.  Consider the following:

Isn’t it odd that “How to Make a Potato Clock” beat BOTH “How to Prevent Global Warming” AND “How to Drive in Icy Conditions”?  I think so.

After 8 years, this is what they say.  Hey, 1 out of 10 ain’t bad!  12 days, America…12 days.

Doubtless, you’ve probably read this story.

I find it humerous for a couple of reasons:

1. Bush has earned nothing less than the experience of having shoes thrown at him by Iraqi journalists.
2. To throw a shoe at someone in the middle of a press conference takes guts.
3. I can’t watch the footage or read the story without thinking of a certain Austin Powers scene.

That really hurt!  I’m going to have a lump there, you idiot!  Who throws a shoe?!  Honestly!  You fight like a woman!

Early this morning (around 6:00), I found myself in that strange, liminal state where the line between sleep and awake becomes blurred.  I dreamed that it was still dark outside, yet I heard the sound of many lawnmowers in my neighborhood.  It was confusing, and I thought to myself, “Who the crap is mowing their yard at 6:00 in the morning?”  I finally got out of bed and realized that my dream was actually closer to reality than I had hoped.  The only difference…people were not mowing their yards, but rather they were plowing their driveways…at 6:00 in the morning.

Living in Milwaukee is  wonderful for about 7-8 months out of the year…past that, it can be somewhat annoying.  Last night’s winter storm dumped roughly 5 inches of snow on the city, and this morning I was forced to join the ranks of my neighbors who had arose early to combat the wintery enemy.  For thirty minutes, I walked up and down my driveway, blowing snow into large piles around my house, and I could not help but return to my dream in which people were mowing their yards in the wee hours of the morning.  Come to think of it, when Spring arrives, I think I will start mowing my yard before the sun has come up…why not?

For the past couple of months, Milwaukee radio has been innundated with commercials advertising laser hair removal from a place called “Ideal Image.”  For the most part, every commercial says the same thing:  “Aren’t you unhappy with all that unwanted hair?  Don’t you want to have more time to do the things you want to do?  Wouldn’t your life be easier if you didn’t have to shave every day?  Isn’t a hairless person a happier person?”  Largely, the commercials are directed toward women, but men are also welcome to partake of the ritual.

In recent weeks, in anticipation of the Christmas season, the commercials have taken a different advertising approach.  Just this morning, I heard a commercial that advocated laser hair removal as a gift for your loved ones.  Get your significant other a gift certificate to Ideal Image for Christmas!  They’ll love you for it!

Now, I can imagine a woman buying such a gift for her man with little to no problem.  Men are notorious for growing hair in strange places, and they are even more notorious for not caring about it.  For the most part, if they don’t have to pay for it, and if they know it will make their female counterparts happy, men will welcome the idea of going in and getting their unsightly growths removed.  Such a gift from a woman to a man is not a problem.

However, the image of a man giving the gift of laser hair removal to his woman is more that slightly problematic.  In my mind, it is on par with getting your wife a thighmaster or an appointment with a nutritionist.  Isn’t “Hey, I thought you might want to take care of that hair I don’t like” the same as “Hey, it would be great if you had smaller thighs?”

Maybe I’m reading too far into this.  Your thoughts are appreciated.

I am absolutely shocked (and horrified) when I see how long it has been since this thing has been updated.  Needless to say, this has been a busy semester.  Juggling three classes, a conference in Boston, three 25-page papers as well as PhD applications has commanded most of my attention (and sanity).  However, the semester has now drawn to a close and all is now well.

My applications for doctoral work have all been submitted, and in the next few weeks the review process will begin.  For a control freak like myself, the fact that I am completely at the mercy of someone else’s decision is unsettling, to say the least.  I’m sure more will follow on this topic in the weeks and months to follow.

Along with the rest of the country, I’ve been watching Michael Phelps on TV for the past couple of weeks.  The guy is amazing, no doubts there.  However, the thought that continues to recur in my mind is how much he looks like my little brother.  Maybe it is just me, but I seriously feel that the two could have been separated at birth.  What do you think?

Some have, in the past and at present, called me a procrastinator.  Their accusations often take different forms.  For example:

- “You haven’t done that yet?  I really need you to get on it.” — Previous Employer

- “You know, you and your father are a lot alike.”  — Mom

- “Whenever/if you get around to it.”  — Significant Other

There is no denying it…I am a procrastinator.  By my own admission, I would much rather do the things that I do not have to do rather than do the things I need to do.  Have you ever wondered if you are a procrastinator?  Of course you have!  Here are some examples (from my own life) that point to a propensity for procrastination.

1. My kitchen and bathrooms are exceptionally clean places.  Many who frequent my house chide me for being “overly tidy” or for having too much time on my hands.  The truth is, I actually have far too little time on my hands, but I would rather spend what time I do have cleaning my bathroom to avoid writing papers.
2. My iTunes library is enviably organized.  I have several playlists that coincide with the moods I may or may not find myself in, and some of them I’ve actually set up to change based on what I’ve listened to in the recent past.  Many times, when I sit down to make a new playlist, I think to myself, “What will I want to listen to when I finally sit down to write this paper of mine?”
3. I ride my bike to improve my concentration.  Along with being in the best shape of my life (really, its true), my recently acquired bike provides me with hours upon hours of procrastination opportunities.  Just this morning, I went for a ride so that I would be more “focused” and able to write a better paper.  It is actually pretty effective, but when I get back from a 10 mile ride, I of course have to do some ab work as well as some free weights.  Then comes the inevitable shower and nap.  Before I know it, night has come.
4. I have a blog.  If you truly wish to know whether or not you are a “real” procrastinator, ask yourself, “Do I have a blog.”  Blogs exist for no other reason than to enable procrastination.  Want proof?  I have a paper that I should be working on right now, but instead I’m writing a blog post about how I don’t want to work on it.  Case closed.

The surprising thing about procrastinators like myself is that, in one way or another, the work eventually gets done.  Most of my papers get turned in on time…I rarely incur late fees on my credit cards…my power has never been cut off due to not paying bills.  One of these days however, I hope to experience the joy of finishing something well ahead of schedule, without the panic and haste that often accompanies my penchant for putting things off till the last minute.  Until that day comes, my kitchen will sparkle and my playlists will grow.