Apparantly, I'm brilliant no matter how hard I try to be mediocre.

I've never got a paper back with red ink.

I am a golden boy when it comes to writing.

Even when I didn't try and bullshat my way through papers, I wrote golden bullshit.

I got my first real college essay back with a note that said, "You should send this to the New York Times."

Paper after paper came back to me saying, "You are awesome."

I mean, they didn't say it quite like that. But that was the gist.

And then there was Bruce: "I don't have notes for you. This is pretty much perfect."

I wish it had gone to my head. Most of the time I am only pretending like I know I am awesome.

I hate writing papers. It stresses me the fuck out. On a practical level this is because I hate organization. I am lazy about getting information together and doing it correctly. Footnotes and bibliography gives me hives.

But really I stress out because every time I hand a paper over to a professor to be judged, I am certain that this will be the day it comes back dripping with red ink.

My first Biblical exegesis paper was due today. Words cannot describe how much I stressed over this. I just knew it was terrible, that I had done everything all wrong, and that it would come back with red ink in God's handwriting.

When I got to my class - in which I am strangely the only credit student this semester - I found that three old people who audit didn't show up because of the weather. My professor suggested we just spend the time going over my paper.

I began sweating so profusely I could smell myself through my sweater. I wanted to jump out the window. Anything but having to sit there while he told me everything I had done wrong.

............

*Professor skims over paper*

...................

"Well, I have a few suggestions to tighten things up, but really you're ahead of the game here. None of the students in my interpretation class will turn in papers like this. This is outstanding for a first time."

.............................

At this point, I'm pretty sure I could write a screenplay about the adventures of gravel and make a million dollars.


I could use a million dollars.

New Adventures

I am starting three new adventures this year.

First - I am going back to school to finish my Bachelor's degree. I will be attending the Austin Graduate School of Theology. No, grandma, I am not going to become an evangelical preacher. Perhaps an anti-evangelical preacher. I like uniforms. Maybe I could be an Episcopalian priest. They get to have sex, right? Or perhaps a professor because I am a nerd and would look cute in nerdy professor sweaters. I really can't stand people between the ages of 18 and 22 though so that might a problem as I hear they frequent college campuses. I don't know. I'm not terribly concerned with what I'm going to be when I grow up. I have an idea, but I'm not sure yet. I just know I enjoy the study of theology and this school impressed me when the admissions counselor mentioned that they recognize the use of metaphor and symbolism in the Bible and don't think Revelations is about the Apocalypse.

Which is good because just the other night I had a nightmare that I was driving down the road and my entire car was Raptured. It was freaky. But when I woke up it made me laugh because of those bumper sticks that say, "In case of Rapture, this car will be empty." Nope. Because I had a dream that told me cars get to go too.

Second - I have started a new blog to follow me in my quest to visit a different church every Sunday morning this year. Why am I doing that? It sounds a bit like torture. Well, yes, it does. But I'm curious. I've never really experienced churches outside Pentecostals and Baptists (who don't really like each other at all.) My study of theology opened my eyes to the fact that not all churches believe the things I was told were absolute Truth. I am fascinated by the fact that such vastly different denominations as Pentecostals and Episcopalians can exist under the heading of Christianity.

Also, its a good gimmick for a blog to share my religous musings on and possibly score a book deal because that happens sometimes, you know. It seems to have been a good idea because I just started it this week, advertized on craigslist, and have already garnered readers.

You can read my new blog at www.thechurchhopper.blogspot.com

But this blog is still active, even though I never use it.

Third - My favorite. :) Meaghan actually IS coming to Austin. She's getting her own apartment, which I think is pretty silly and a waste of money. But she's probably smarter than me when she says we'd kill each other if we tried to live together after so much time apart. Damn, I hate it when she's right. So does my wallet. But I don't really care because she'll be here and that's all that matters.

New Home, check. New Job, please?

I am writing this post from the comfort of my very own unshared apartment. For all you know I could be writing this in the nude in my living room because I can do that sort of thing now. I can use my kitchen without worrying about baking someone else's pet roaches. I can use my balcony without upsetting Mama Pigeon and her babies (who are now adorable adolescents and I'll miss them a little.) I could have a guest come over and she wouldn't have to wash her hair in the sink! My cats can frolic and play in 650 sq feet of private space. I can shut them out of the bathroom now so they won't poo in my bathtub. Ahh, 'tis bliss.

Now I just need a new job. I feel terrible about the prospect of quitting because when I took the job they wanted my assurance that I was going to stay a while because it's been a revolving door position for several years. I assured them I was looking for something long term. But that was before I realized that while the shows that air on television or watered down and sanitized to make people think hunting is a nice, clean, family friendly activity on which you should spend thousands of dollars, we also produce DVDs that are nothing more than an animal snuff porn. The only thing missing is scenes of the hunters actually practicing necrobestiality, but judging from their frighteningly intense excitement when they proclaim "I really stuck that pig!" as it convulses and screams in a massive pool of blood, I'm pretty sure many of them have at least thought about having relations with their prey.

I saw many horrible things watching this DVD on Friday. I can't blog about them in any real detail because it would be just my luck that someone would stumble across here, recognize the scene from the DVD and report to my boss that one of his employees thinks he wants to fuck dead pigs. But I saw something so awful it was all I could do not to walk out right then and there because people who would do something so cruel and disgusting don't deserve respect.

Some people hunt for food. Some people honestly hunt to control populations to keep animals from starving to death or destroying crops. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I love animals, but my strict diet of their flesh would make me a hypocrit for opposing all hunting. But these people raise deer and other animals on ranches for the sole purpose of charging rich rednecks thousands of dollars to shoot one of these beautiful creatures from the comfort of a blind set up over a food plot or water trough and puts it genetically engineered antlers on their wall to make up for the fact that they have tiny penises. They're murderers who use thousands of dollars worth of expensive equipment to hunt and claim they do it to get back to man's primal nature. Get a spear, asshole, and take the risk of being gored first.

I've been uncomfortable working there for a very long time, but I try to ignore it because I need money obviously and because my family is so damn proud. I try to explain that it is killing my soul to be involved with something this unethical and cruel, but they tell me not to bite the hand that feeds me. I don't really want to eat out of a hand covered in blood.

Milk: Does a Body Good

Tonight I went to see "Milk."

When it was over the audience applauded.

I've never been to a movie where the audience literally applaued before.

It started with the man sitting a seat away from me. He was an unkempt overweight man in his late thirties or early forties with a gruff voice. I could hear him making those noises men make at the movies when they don't want any strangers to know they're crying. I recognize them because I was making the same noises.

When the credits rolled, there was a moment of reflective silence. Then this man gave one strong abrupt clap. There was a pause because no one knew it it makes sense to clap for a movie. He clapped again a little more forcefully. The middle-aged heterosexual couple joined in. Suddenly, everyone was applauding. People were getting to their feet in ovation. It was incredible.

And then the asshole in the projection booth abruptly cut off the credits. The applause skidded to a halt in one beautiful moment of communal awkwardness. No one knew what to do. We all kind of looked at each other. For a moment we were all friends, united by the idiocy of an overly efficient projectionist. We all grumbled, collected our things, and left.

I read a critic that complained "Milk" isn't transcendent enough. If he been at my theater tonight, he would have found out he was wrong.

Beyond Belief

I don't blog much these days. Perhaps you've noticed. But then no one else blogs much either so I don't want to look like an overachiever or anything by blogging every day and putting y'all's trickle of posts to shame. Is it okay to say y'all's. There are two apostrophes. That doesn't seem right at all. Hmmmm.

Anyways.

I just finished reading Elaine Pagel's "Beyond Belief: The Gospel of Thomas" at the recommendation of one of my three dear readers here. I was familiar with Tom from another brillilant piece of literature - Jodi Picoult's novel "Change of Heart" about a death row inmate, Shay, who wants to donate his heart to the sister of the girl he allegedly murdered as an atonement and because he might just be Jesus because he seems to heal another inmate of AIDs and quotes from the Gospel of Thomas which he says he's never read. I may have been using the word brillian loosely, but there is one incredibly beautiful description of what it's like to die and meet God that made be sob like a baby. But I often sob like a baby - or perhaps a menopausal Lifetime-obsessed woman - when reading Picoult books, so it might not be that amazing to the general population. I digress.

I really enjoyed Pagel's book, but I thought it was a bit mistagged. I know a lot more about early church fathers and Constantine and the battles over orthodoxy and canonization, but not really so much about The Gospel of Thomas. I kind of felt like she got distracted when she was writing the book and forgot what she was supposed to be talking about. Like if I told you this blog was going to about the Gospel of Thomas and then went off on a long tangent about Irenaeus getting huffy about Valentinus. Because that's pretty much what she did. It was all important and interesting stuff, but I kept waiting for her to get back to why she really likes Thomas more than John, but she never did. One minute she was talking about Constantine and the next minute the book was over and I wasn't sure she had ever made a point. But I still enjoyed the history lesson.

It did include the entire Gospel of Thomas at the back of the book so that was interesting to read. It made a bit more sense to me in the context of "Change of Heart" than it did on its own. I kept thinking, "Jesus Christ, Jesus, just say what you mean. What on earth are you talking about?" I'm a big fan of context, and Thomas is basically like 70 sayings all taken out of context. If I were Thomas' editor I would have told him to add some stories that could easily be translated to a feltboard presentation... I did however get a kick out of the way his book ends.

Admittedly, I am a simple man who needs simple story illustrations to grasp abstract concepts. This is why I like country music and Pixar movies. This is why I do no like math or "The Fountain" or Panic! at the Disco. But I do love "Stranger than Fiction." I could write a Gospel of Harold Crick if the Bible were still accepting submissions. It would be awesome.

Before Christmas I am going to take a 180 turn from this foray into the Apocrypha and blog about my man Joseph who probably had more influence on Jesus than anyone else, but who doesn't even merit a "And then Joseph died and Jesus and his family wept" verse.

I wonder if anyone can guess why I like Joseph so much. So far nobody in my family has caught on to why I staunchly insist on including him in the festivities. Only Meaghan knows. Do you?

Yes, We Did

I thought I was mostly ambivalant about the election. I knew I didn't want McCain/Palin, but I wasn't sure I wanted Obama either. I wasn't even sure I was going to vote until last night, and even then I wasn't entirely sure I was legitimately registered in Texas. But I was. So I voted.

I thought about going to a restaurant to watch the news because I don't have cable in my room. But I thought it would be tomorrow before we knew. Now I'm sad I didn't go and see them actually make the live announcement. I think I will always remember the chills I got when I refreshed the CNN page and saw that he had gone from 207 to 297. I was like 'Wait, did he already win?!!?' And then I went to MSN and it the big banner up announcing our new President.

I called my parents to gloat. Wes called to celebrate. I wanted to give someone a hug but had to settle for my dog. Sometimes it sucks to be this far from all my friends. But my roommate got home just in time for his speech so we had our own little party. He gave me a beer, we toasted, we high-fived when the President promised his daughters a new puppy for their new house.

I had something in my eye the whole time. Suddenly I was proud. My ambivalance was gone. Maybe he is just a great speaker. Maybe he is a terrorist Muslim. To tell the truth, I don't give a shit because he got our complacent generation off our asses and we did something to change things instead of just bitching about them. And that is awesome.

101 Reasons to Live in Austin, Volume I

1. I live in Austin.

2. Buffy Sing-Alongs at the Alamo Drafthouse.

3. ANYTHING at the Alamo Drafthouse. They serve food and alcohol!

4. Austin has a lot of hospitals.

5. Austin has a lot of children in need of psychiatric care.

Good thing only two people read this blog or this would not make a lick of sense, hmmm?

6. The world's largest urban bat colony lives under the Congress Bridge. On a summer evening, you can stand on the bridge and watch them steam into the air by the millions. Its amazing.

7. Austin is a great city for riding your bike if you need to develop rippling thunder thighs. Lance Armstrong lives here!

8. Sandra Bullock and Dennis Quaid also live here. They should make a romantic comedy together set here in Austin. I'm gonna work on that...

9. Austin is a little over one hour from the San Antonio, which makes the Riverwalk, Sea World, and Fiesta Texas day trips.

10. Austin is the gateway to the Texas Hill Country, which is some of the most beautiful country in America if you ask me.

11. The Waterloo Ice House serves the world's absolute best chicken fried steak. It's real meat!

12. The River Market has nothing on the shores of Town Lake.

13. Funky locally-owned coffee shops by the hundreds.

14. The Frost Bank Tower looks like an owl!

15. The Servan Girl Annihilator!!! Don't worry, he's long gone, but its a really cool story. Especially if you hear it while taking a lovely stroll thrown downtown Austin on a ghost tour in the month of October. http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/serial_killers/history/servant_girl/index.html

16. Its a college town so it always stays young, but its big enough that you aren't overrun by the obnoxious little monsters everywhere you go like in certain other college towns I have lived.

17. In Austin, it is illegal to not get your pet spayed or neutered. Austin loves animals!

18. Austin is the blueberry in the bowl of tomato soup. If you don't know what that means, you will when you notice the delightful change in bumper stickers as you approach the famou Austin City Limits sign.

19. Austin is the live music capital of the world. I don't really like live music, but hey, you can't NOT mention it when you talk about Austin.

20. It is illegal to smoke indoors at any establishment in Austin. This includes bars and clubs and any other live music venue so there is never a need to take Claritin before going out on the town.