The Most Trivial Reader Contest Ever!

With a title like that you might be expecting some sort of witty trivia contest, but I'm not quite that clever. Instead I'd like to offer you a chance to do something that has been amusing me most of the day, distracting me from studying for finals and writing my last papers of the semester. It started with two words:

Projectile Dysfunction

Somehow those two words, put together, have been an endless source of inane amusement for me. Perhaps they will be for you, too.

The contest is this:

Either

a.) Come up with a picture that would best make use of the caption "Projectile Dysfunction," and either email me the picture or leave a comment here describing it, or

b.) Write a brief story or joke featuring "projectile dysfunction" and either email it to me or leave it in the comments section.

The winner gets...

well... hopefully not projectile dysfunction.

The winner gets...

the mythic Dave Chapman award for creative use of the Internet!

Gun Totin' Jesus (or, a Bumper Sticker Watch turns into a Reader Contest)

It's been a long time since we've had a Bumper Sticker Watch or a Reader Contest around here. So long, in fact, that I don't care to do any research at all to find out when the last time we did either of those was in order to link to them to let any (please let there be some) new readers know what either of those distinctly Sandalstraps' Sanctuary phenomena are. What I saw on the way to Target (I know, I boycott Wal Mart but shop at Target... Pot, meet Kettle. Kettle, meet Pot. I'm sure you'll be great friends, since you have so much in common...) made me decide to revive them both at the same time. So, today we're having a Bumper Sticker Watch and a Reader Contest in the same post. Enjoy:

Driving to Target to buy some Kashi cereal (don't dwell on it... I've had as hard a time reconciling those two as I have had reconciling myself to that fact that I spent all week driving to school in a minivan while listening to Nirvana - Tom says there's an existential crisis in there somewhere) I saw a roughly 2004 Ford Crown Victoria with two pieces of automotive propaganda - one on each side of the license plate. To the left, a medallion declaring the owner/operator of this automobile as a Lifetime Member of the National Rifle Association. To the right, a metallic fish with the word "Jesus" in the middle, declaring the owner/operator of this car to be, presumably, a disciple of that peace-loving rabble-rouser, Jesus of Nazareth.

I live in the South, a life-long resident of the uncommon Commonwealth of Kentucky. I understand the social phenomenon of "Guns and God." I'm used to Christians strappin'. It happens all the time around here. But something about the name "Jesus" situated next to an NRA badge struck me. I don't mean to say that Christians can't love guns - I know many (including at least one semi-regular reader of this blog) who do. But there seems something contradictory claiming allegiance to someone who argued passionately against any right to violence in the name of self-defense while also being a proud member of an organization whose main purpose is to propagate for the right of individuals to personally use even lethal force to defend themselves against perceived threats.

So, here's the Reader Contest:

Using the text of the canonical Gospels (no fair using the "Infancy Gospel of Thomas," in which Jesus kills a man on the street for bumping into him, and a succession of teachers for having the audacity to question him) and anything you happen to know about the NRA, find any point of commonality between the message and mission of Jesus of Nazareth and the political agenda of the National Rifle Association.

For gun totin' Christians, you may take this as a serious theological challenge. For my pacifist friends, perhaps this is an opportunity for satire. For those of us in the middle, make of this what you will. But, whatever your slant, try your best to reconcile Jesus and the NRA - without resorting to the cultural phenomenon of "Guns and God" in the American South.

New Sidebar Item, Plus Additional Tagging

The more I visit blogs like Debunking Christianity, blog devoted to debating a single topic or set of topics, the more thankful I am that by and large this blog has been free of the sort of rancor which characterizes discussions in our culture, and especially in this strange artificial social environment we call the blogosphere. So often, both in "real life" and in this virtual milieu, conversations are decidedly polemical, with two definite sides, the "right" side and the "wrong" side. Of course, who is right and who is wrong depends in most cases entirely on perspective. Since we so rarely share the perspective of the "other," our foolish, stupid, misguided, deluded, or just plain evil debate partner, they must a priori be "wrong," just as we undoubtedly seem equally wrong.

This sense of our being "right" and the other being "wrong" as I said is a priori, in that it starts even before the discussion begins. Before any dialogue on any subject, all parties generally begin with a list of beliefs or statements that are "right" and a list of statements and beliefs that are "wrong." Discussion, rather than the meeting of minds and the melding of ideas, becomes both a test and a battle ground. A test, in that each partner in the discussion is looking for particular statements and replies, which signal agreement and acceptance or disagreement and rejection. A battle ground, in that, in the event of disagreement, conflict ensues. This conflict is not a wrestling against yourself to make sure that you fully understand what the other is saying; rather it is a wrestling against the words of the other, which are a priori seen as "wrong."

I say this not to say that all beliefs or ideas are created equal, and have an equal measure of merit, worth, and especially truth-value. Some claims are true, some claims are false. Some ideas are helpful, some ideas are harmful. Rather, I say this to lament the quality of our exchanges, and to lament the arrogance of our clinging to our perspectives. Just because some ideas are true does not mean that my idea, prior to any critical engagement, is necessarily true. Just because some ideas are harmful does not mean that they ideas which contradict my own, by virtue of my disagreeing with them, are necessarily harmful.

Discussion, real discussion, when it happens, serves to expand my perspective. It serves to help me understand other views, and see that not all of my intuitions are universal; not all of my ideas stand up to scrutiny. It also serves to let me know that people who do not share my deepest assumptions are neither evil nor stupid; they are simply not me. But, like me, they also value both the truth and the good, even if we do not always agree what those elusive qualities might be.

Because of the persistence of rancor in blog debates - debates which should be discussions but instead devolve into partisan bickering and polemical warfare - I've added a new section to my sidebar, titled Ground Rules for Discussion. In it you will find a link to my post, A Note on Charity. In the event that a polemical debate ever makes it way to this fair blog, that should prove a useful resource.

On a totally different subject, meme tagging is increasingly like Congressional subpoenas: just because you were overlooked in the first round does not mean that you will escape it. I've decided to issue a new batch of subpoenas - oops, I mean tags - for the Best Contemporary Theology Meme. The whole cast of Habakkuk's Watchpost, consider yourselves tagged. Especially Tyler, Ben, and Kyle. I can't wait to see what you guys come up with.

Best Contemporary Theology Meme

Patrik tagged me with his new Best Contemporary Theology Meme, and as I am powerless to resist the call of the blogosphere, here's my best offering on an impossible subject:

I can't pretend to be an expert on any subject, but if I were it would definitely not be contemporary theology as Patrik has defined it. When I read Christian theology, anyway, I read mostly dead Germans. So it was a bit of a challenge to come up with three (or more) theological works from the past twenty five years. Despite evidence to the contrary (like this huge post), I've spent most of the day thinking this over, and I've come up with two sets of three books, with a surprising four of the six coming from Christianity, and no Buddhist books (the other two are Jewish).

The first set is my original answer. The second set contains mostly lesser known books that I wish everyone would read. So, (finally!) here goes:

THREE OF THE MOST INFLUENTIAL WORKS Of CONTEMPORARY THEOLOGY:

The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith, by Marcus Borg

Perhaps some "experts" may scoff at the first book here being written for a general audience, but what I love about Borg is just that: he writes for the people in the pews. You can't say that your theology is very "influential" if it takes two or three specialized degrees to read it. Additionally, this book, which makes a sharp distinction between faith and belief, is one of a handful of books that kept me firmly within the Christian tradition as my own theology was shifting so violently in the months that followed my departure from professional ministry.

Anyone who reads this blog very often knows what Borg's work means to me, so any additional explanation for including this at the top of the list would merely repeat ad nauseum what I've already written on Borg.

The Body of God: An Ecological Theology, by Sallie McFague

All you need to know about this selection can be found in this post. If you want to know my opinion of the broader project of the book, rather than the problems I have with the 17 or so pages that seek to define "sin," see the first part of the post. This is simply the most creative re-interpretations of Incarnation that I've seen, and it really helped me come to terms with what I mean when I say that God is made incarnate. Because I certainly don't mean that you should confuse the person of Jesus of Nazareth with the Godhead.

I guess, then, what Borg and McFague have in common is that they have helped me understand incarnation absent the belief that God literally became a human being; a belief that I consider both logically and physically impossible. But, neither of them did it in a negative way. Neither of them came out swinging at the traditional concept of Incarnation. Rather, they each creatively explored the non-literal implications of a classic Christian teaching.

Theologie im Aufbruch, by Hans Kung (published in English as Theology for the Third Millennium: An Ecumenical View)

This could be the magnum opus of postmodern Christian theology, and deserves a better treatment than the cursory overview I'll give it here. It is, like all good Kung books, a cross between systematic theology and critical history. Kung sees history and theology as tied to each other, with our theological ideas as both shaping and shaped by history.

That is, theological ideas are both products of their historical settings, and shapers of future historical settings. They are then both historical and trans-historical, and Kung often devotes a great deal of time and energy exploring both.

This particular work is almost a reinterpretation of systematic Christian theology for a postmodern setting. It looks at historical developments, theological problems, and the historical development of theological problems and conflicts, and watches a new kind of Christianity emerge. To say more would risk butchering Kung. It is the most ambitious read on the list.

THREE LESSER KNOWN BOOKS ALMOST EVERYONE SHOULD READ:

Do No Harm: Social Sin and Christian Responsibility, by Stephen G. Ray, Jr.

While Ray taught at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary just before I arrived there for my first tour of duty (my ill-fated stint as an M.Div. student) I have never met him, and don't know anything about him except that he wrote this excellent exploration of Christian social ethics. It looks at the moral value of speaking about sin, an issue that had never occurred to me. Ray argues that our concepts of sin and the language that we couch them in have moral value in and of themselves, and have often been used to do a great deal of harm. He then takes the reader on a brief jaunt through a brief selected history of the language of sin, before then trying to redeem "sin-talk."

The Dignity of Difference: How to Avoid the Clash of Civilizations, by Jonathan Sacks

I first wrote about this book, a past winner of the Grawmeyer Award, here, and then gave the book a more full treatment here. I don't have much to add to what I wrote about it in December of 2005. Rabbi Sacks wrote a powerful, and powerfully conservative, treatment of how Jews can be faithful to their own tradition while still honoring the traditions of others. It is the perfect antidote to the hostility which so often characterizes what has come to be known as the "clash of civilizations." It is also the easiest read on the list, and highly recommended to general audiences.

Ending Auschwitz: The Future of Jewish and Christian Life, by Marc H. Ellis

This is another book that has already made its way into my blog, here and here. Both posts concern Columbus Day, which is not a surprise given that Ellis links 1492 with Auschwitz. However, his linking the two is not just a metaphor for Christian domination, imperialism, oppression, and anti-Semitism, though, of course, those figure into his work. Rather, he primarily uses this link as a path to Jewish-Christian solidarity, arguing that most Christians are, like Jews, victims of Christian oppression and imperialism. That is because Christianity is growing fastest in the lands of Christian conquest.

It is now a mistake to see the face of Christianity as that of a white European or European-American. Most Christians can now be found in the developing world - an area that has been exploited, oppressed, and colonized by the "Christian" world. As such, most Christians are literally the victims of Christian imperialism and expansionism, and as such have a great deal in common with Jews through history.

Ahh... Now it’s all over but the tagging. So, who do I want to tag? Let's see...

Brian Cubbage, if you're still out there somewhere in the blogosphere, I'm calling you out. (And, if not I'll just have to drop by your house and extract your answer from you in person.)

In addition to Brian, I'm also tagging:

Amy, PamBG, and Crystal.

You're it!

A New Explanatory Theory: Take This, Evolustionists and IDers!

[Note: this post should not be read by the humor impaired, even though I am often among their number]

Since I broke my wrist, being physically unable to work, I have had a great deal of time on my hands. Way too much time. Time to ponder. Way, way, way too much time to ponder.

My pondering began when I realized that a reflex, an unconscious decision made in less than a quarter of a second's time, has reduced me to this broken shell of my former self, hand and arm wrapped and bandaged, a screw surgically (and permanently!) inserted into my wrist. I'd taken martial arts classes. I'd been trained in how to fall, my natural reflex subverted to avoid just the sort of injury I sustained. I spent months flopping on the floor of the studio, fearing the floor at least as much as the tongue lashing I'd get for hitting it wrong.

Under the supervision of my martial arts master I learned the art of falling. Knowing in advance that gravity would soon win our perpetual wrestling match, I could curl my body just right to hit the ground rolling, "slap out," and pop right up to resume the attack.

But, given my first chance to fall in a "natural environment," my first uncontrolled fall, the first time that gravity won even though I didn't let it, I reverted back to form. To reflex. An unconscious decision, unwilling to remain repressed, made in less than a quarter of a second, left me temporarily disabled.

And, like I said, this has left me with time to think. Time to ponder. Far too much time. Time to revisit everything I ever thought that I believed. And, in this time, I realized that my injury - or, more accurately, the asinine reflex which gave rise to it - stands as the ultimate challenge to two competing explanatory theories. My injury - or, again, the reflex which gave rise to it - knocks off the two theoretical giants at the center of both our culture war, and the broader war between science and religion.

The question of evolution by means of natural selection or intelligent design has, I propose, finally been answered in the most decisive fashion: Neither!

You see, if our biology could be explained by Darwinian evolution, then it stands to reason that at some point such a useless trait would have been weeded out of the gene pool. How can billions of years not eliminate the most counter-intuitive and destructive impulses?!? If it truly were "survival of the fittest," whichever of my ancestors possessed this ridiculous instinct would surely have been wiped out, leaving no trace of this trait.

No, the only way such a trait could have survived is if it were willed to be, and to be everlasting, by a sovereign creator, a supreme designer. But, from this trait, what can we learn of this designer, whose work is so manifestly evident in our fatal flaws? This is certainly not the perfect and benevolent artist/engineer proclaimed by ID. No, that the work of God is found in the most inexplicable aspects of our genetic make-up - not that which is, as IDers claim, too complex to be explained by random mutations over time; but that which is too stupid, too counter-productive, to have possibly survived the process of natural selection - points not to an intelligent designer, but to an unintellegent one!

That's right, the reflex to stick your hands down to break your fall as gravity hurls you to the ground proves once and for all that not only is there a God, but that that God is an idiot!

So I challenge you, dear reader, to look at nature with these new eyes given to you by the grand theory of Unintellegent Design (UD, for short), and find more evidence that we have been Unintellegently Designed.

This is the new Sandalstraps' Sanctuary reader contest: To find and report here evidence of our Unintellegent Design. We need both stories of stupid behaviors and reflexes which should not have been allowed to survive the billions of years of so-called "natural selection" which have supposedly led to us, and also theoretical work to bolster UD against those who would like, for ideological reasons, to shoot it down before it can knock down the twin idols of evolution and ID.

And the Winner Is...

The winner of our reader contest to explain the sudden removal of Brian Cubbage's blog Lost on Twin Earth is...

[hope the drum roll here doesn't give away the fact that a drummer won]

CHAPPY!, who wrote:

It was the penguins, pure and simple. Seeing Brian's blog as a threat to the media blitz of their upcoming motion picture Happy Feet, the penguins used the fowl influence to convince several less-than-bright pigeons to fly into a power transformer, thereby causing a strategically-placed power outage, which then crippled the servers that hosted L.O.T.E. As added insurance for their nefarious scheme, the penguins threatened to support Northup's re-election. Seeing that he had to do his civic duty and sacrifice a source of interesting blog reading, Brian pulled the plug to save Louisville from another Northup term.

The very close runner up was Liam, for this piece of blog-comment noir:

It was a rainy day on Madison Avenue, and inside the sub-basement of the Opus Dei building, Karl Rove and the re-animated Walt Disney were feeding into a shredder the last few papyrus pages of an unknown gnostic gospel that not only exalted the roles of Judas and Mary Magdelene, but also predicted a Democratic victory in 2006. "The blog, Karl, the blog..." croaked Disney. "Yes, I know..." said his pale fleshy accomplice, "he rarely posts, but when he does, he's dangerous."

The two had already taken some "necessary steps" to insure "things would go the way we want them to." Pedro Martinez AND El Duque out for the playoffs? Not mere chance... And that was just the beginning.

Outside a few blocks away a shadowy figure wearing a Cary Grant mask climbed up the fascade of the Chrysler Building. There was something Kentucky about him. If he could just reach the mind-transmitter before it could break into his brain, a brain made tough from analytic philosophy, but still human... The foil in the mask could only protect him for so long.

His head began to hurt... No! It was too late, Rove and Disney had broken into his mind. They had the username, they had his password. Somewhere in cyberspace, a blog was being deleted.

It pains me to say this, but Chappy's grand prize is the following sentence, which I swore I'd never utter:

All hail our arctic overlords!

Now, Chappy, will your danged dream penguins please leave me alone?!?

RIP LOTE

Brian Cubbage's blog Lost on Twin Earth has officially closed shop. I thought that we should in some special way mark its passing, so, talking to Brian last night, we hatched an idea. Instead of writing some sentimental sap in the form of a mock obituary, we're going to hold a contest, not entirely unlike Brian's wager with Liam on the comments section of this post.

So, we're holding a contest. Whoever comes up with the best story explaining why Lost on Twin Earth has been removed from the blogosphere wins... well, we haven't decided yet. But it will be nice, I promise.

And remember, bonus points will be awarded at my discretion for plausible conspiracy theories. Get crackin'!