Ruminations on Brannon Howse's Career Choices

I'm back from a walk. I wore a fleece jacket, which was a bad idea. My wardrobe is clinging to me, and my jacket will be soggy at the wrists tomorrow morning. Tonight, as for the last several days, I have been ruminating over the debacle at the First Baptist Church of Snellville, the Worldview Weekend Hate-a-thon. What did I see and what did it mean?

I learned something about Howse that night that I did not know, I mean, besides the fact that he is a tiny person. When he started out his professional career, he was an office cleaner. He owned his own office cleaning business. He and his wife (who either has had some work done or needs some, maybe both) would clean offices at night. And when I heard this, a lot of things clicked into place all at once. This explained a lot to me, because he writes history much like a janitor.

I don't mean to disrespect any janitors out there. Just two of them. Indeed, it explained something to me that I heard many, many moons ago, a moment when Howse almost connected with a paranoid schizophrenic who called in to his show:

Of course, Howse did not actually take this guy seriously, just prattled on about a transparently unrelated topic. But there was that moment where, for a second, "YES, SIR!" came out a little too strong. I think in that moment, well, he thought he saw a brother. A crazy brother that the family keeps away from the dog, but then again, I wouldn't ask Howse to dog-sit either.

I am working on my magnificent octopus, my podcast about the Worldview Weekend Code Blue Panic-fest. I am waiting to hear from the church that sponsored Howse to see if they are on board with his message. I have sent two emails, but they have not returned either message. This is fine and unfortunate. I am going to have to comment on that, and I have loads of commentary. But be patient, little one.

In the meantime, here are some chimps to creep the shit out of you:

HJ

New HBO WWII miniseries!

I should never be taken by surprise by something like this. And it looks like they are using Eugene Sledge's With the Old Breed as a source! Fantastic! One of the best things to come out of the war. Seriously, you need to read it. There will be a quiz.

Here's my prediction. You are going to see a much more brutal, unthinkable war in this companion piece to Band of Brothers (Spielberg and Hanks are involved with this one too). Band of Brothers was the best version of the European war so far--by far the most accurate in terms of sets/equipment/etc. I'm sure they are going to bring the same attention to detail to this one, but the Pacific War was in every sense savagery without retreat or mercy. This is going to be a hard one to watch.

I am trying to get a hold of my mentor back in St. Louis. I don't know if he has heard of this yet! Woohoo! I am totally fired up!

HJ

Disappointment...

Man, I tried. We left an hour and a half early and we hit the mother of all traffic snarls. There was no way that we were getting there on time.

I hate every single driver in Atlanta individually and collectively. Every single one you is brain damaged. I counted the number of lanes, and there were plenty. We never once came across a single obstruction in the road, which means that all lanes were clear the whole time and that all cars could have moved forward, but for some reason, perhaps a local tradition, everyone decided that they would rather park in front of me. I saw no evidence that anyone had anywhere that they had to be. So pull the fuck over.

As I sat there in traffic, watching my chance to meet Ken Ham evaporate, I noticed how my moving into a different, faster moving lane was the kiss of death for any prospect of forward motion. Now, I know that this is impossible, so I set about figuring how this damned phenomenon occurs, and I came up with a plausible explanation. Bear with me. Imagine that, on average, all three lanes are moving at the same average speed, what with all the starting and stopping. So it averages out. Would you not expect that 2/3 of the time that at least one lane would be moving faster than you? And if you take into account confirmation bias--really only noticing when cars are passing you and not when you are passing other cars, well, you get the "Why is my lane always the slowest effect," or the "McGhandi Effect," which is now its official title.

HJ

Bing Returns to Crazy Church--Tonight!

This time, it's personal.



Can you say mega-podcast?

HJ

Google Trends

Thank you, Internet. You never cease to entertain:

HJ

Corey Haim Dead! (Is Corey Haim Alive?)

This is breaking news. I am certain that we are going to be seeing a whole series of tributes about what a great actor he was, even if there is little or no evidence of it in his oeuvre. It's how these things go.

Can Corey Feldman be far behind? Or maybe he's already dead!

HJ

Man, I'm busy.

You have no idea. Seriously. Like none.

But I am not so busy that I won't take a minute to update my blog.

Mr. Kitty Cat (Gavin Randini), is coming along fine, I think. We have not figured him out yet however. He growls and rubs against you. He likes scratching, both giving and receiving scratches. My arm is so carved up, you'd think that I was a messed-up teenager. He has a weepy eye and needs to get a parasite test (separate matters), and then we will be able to mix him in with the other cats. I think that he will want to kill them less if they can get used to each other.

I spent today grading, and I will have to enter grades into my spreadsheet tomorrow morning before class. I finished one class. Two more to go (one a night). The students' final project is also coming together. I came up with grading criteria for them. They will get a weekly score for...well, I can't tell you that, can I? Haha. But their final project is going to be freaking awesome.

In the evening, I read a novel, which is always nice. It's Pynchon, and it kept my mind off of the fact that I was basically sitting around waiting for clothes to dry.

Guitar-wise, it was on tonight, bitch. That's all I'm saying. I have discovered backing tracks online, and it gives me a chance to hear how I would be doing if I had a band to play with, or so I like to think. And it's not so bad, I mean, except for not knowing any of the songs. The ones I do know, however, sound right enough to me, and I enjoy futzing about trying to get my own take on the song. Give me digital delay and my Big Muff, and I'm a happy camper. My chorus pedal, of which I am also fond, seems to be crapping out on me pretty quick. I can't seem to plug it into my line (for some obscure reason) without using batteries, but it tears through them overnight (I'm not leaving it on or a plug in or anything). It just dies fast. I am going to try going to Radio Shack and see if we can't find an adapter that fits it. Next? I'm not sure. Because I don't make shit and just barely get by, I can't afford to get that guitar upgrade, which is a decade overdue.

Damn it.

Anyway, I have to be at work in a few hours, so I should probably try sleeping. I know lots of people who swear by it.

HJ