This is riveting. Talk about communication breakdown. I recall a high school history teacher who once said, "Communication with each other is one of the hardest things for humans to do."
March 2006 Archives
I went to hear Al Plantinga at Covenant College last night, and while I grasped most of what he was saying, I realized that the way my brain works is not totally in tune with the way a philosopher's brain works. Which is why I took only one philosophy course at Covenant (phil. of language, baby!), and why I didn't even consider majoring in it. However, good ol' Al was quite proficient at stating things clearly, and I was able to understand at least his definitions of evolutionary psychology and scripture scholarship even if I wasn't able to make all the connections. It was a great lecture, and a great crowd, and it made me want to read all of Warranted Christian Belief. I will leave it to a more astute student of philosophy to explain more in depth what he talked about. But I did walk away with my faith somewhat strengthened.
Off to Boston tonight, and a long weekend with the old 5N girls. I've arranged a visit with BU people on Monday. A report with pictures will be forthcoming.
I went to hear this choir last night. So good, and so British. Chattanooga was the first stop on their American tour, and they had flown over the day before and were clearly jetlagged. Yet they were able to perform Purcell, Mendelssohn, and Herbert Howells with the sound that only a boys choir from Cambridge could make. One of the boys could not have been over 7 years old, with chubby cheeks. He kept yawning and coughing and would lose his place but come back in for the final "Amen." I couldn't believe he was belting out requiems and magnificats and singing in German and doing other things I could only dream of as a 7-year-old. He was SO cute, and Mom and I agreed that we both wanted to take him home and put him to bed.
At the end, the older members of the choir, some of them grown men who were singing serious falsetto, broke out "Ev'ry time I feel the Spirit," with their fabricated southern accents. It was effortless. Not as good as the Cono boys ensemble though.
In other news, UCLA and LSU sent Adam Morrison and JJ Redick home crying, respectively, and literally, and something about that is very satisfying to me. Although it certainly didn't help my bracket.
Since Andrew likes to comment on my blog, I thought I would do him a favor by actually posting again. It's been a while, but it's mainly because I never have good fodder. Of course, if you ask William Zissner, or E.B. White, even the littlest things can be transformed into good essays, for those who are willing to look. I recently read an essay by White on brown eggs vs. white eggs. Reminds me of Grandma Belz's brown eggs and cinnamon rolls and coffee on her oval table on Sunday mornings at her house at Cono. (Wow, too many prepositions in that sentence).
The NCAA tournament pretty much sucks. The Big Ten is completely out so now I'm left with George Mason to root for. Iowa was a huge disappointment.
I don't have any cool links or photos to put on here right now. That will have to wait till later, when I've built up more stamina. I'll leave you with some idea of what the near future looks like for me: flying to Boston in a couple weeks for a long weekend, training for Ragbrai, going to the beach and doing Ragbrai the second half of July, got into a couple grad schools, namely American and Boston U., and need to decide about that. I wish the weather in Chattytown would get better so I could ride my new bike.
Andrew, if you're reading, I could use some grad school advice.
