31 August 2005

Lord of the Flies

I saw a blog (can't remember where) referring to what's happening in New Orleans as becoming like "Lord of the Flies" (did you know that Golding's original title was "The Stranger Within"?). That happens to be the book that I am currently teaching my ninth graders. The reference provided me a great opportunity to link current events to literature. Golding was right: when the rules of society and civilization break down, we truly find out what kind of people we are. It is what we do when we think no one is watching or we think that we won't be caught that is the true measure of our virtue. That was the point of my old China post where I pondered if the Chinese would still be so polite when the gun of Chino-fascism was no longer at their backs. Before Communism fell in the Soviet Union, crime, adultery, violence, gangs, etc were nearly non-existent. Now they are ubiquitous. The people of the old Soviet Union were not extra-virtuous; they simply had no choice.

On a lighter note, one of my classes discussed the question, "What would the island [in Lord of the Flies] have been like if girls had been there as well?" One student suggested a new title, Lady of the Flies". The girls thought things would have been much better. Eventually, we decided the dispute would not have been over hunting or shelter, but over cooties. We settled on the title "Lord of the Cooties".

Peace

28 August 2005

Looking for Mr. P.

I have been looking for someone using all of the resources of the internet. Unfortunately, his name is somewhat common, and I have not seen him for over twenty years. I feared the trail had grown cold. Luckily, I ran into a two-year old post at classmates.com that gave me the clue I needed. I sent an e-mail to the institution where I suspected he teaches, and I just got this e-mail back from the man who inspired me to teach:

"To ----:
Hi! I'm ---------------. I was told by one of our staff members that you were looking to get in touch with me and that you were one of my former students. I apologize, but the name doesn't ring a bell. Did you go to ------- Christian Schools in --------, GA? If so, I probably did have you in one or more classes. Why don't you write back and we can clarify some details. Thanks!"


At last I can thank the teacher who inspired me to teach. It doesn't bother me the least that he doesn't remember me as I was pretty unmemorable in high school. I remember the moment that I decided to teach as clear as though it were yesterday. I was in Mentone, Alabama, sitting on a high porch overlooking a very cold river that I had just finished swimming in. It was a year since I had had Mr. P. in class. In fact, the school where I had him had closed its doors. I wanted to do for others what he had done for me. He made me want to learn all that I could about his subject. I am still learning.

Peace

25 August 2005

Miracle Meteorite

The ninth-grader ate his lunch quickly so that he could rush outside to enjoy the remainder of his lunch period under the autumn sun. He was the first one out. Eager and immature, he hadn't yet learned the proper bearing of a high-schooler. Much of him was still but a boy, happy dirty, playing with Lego, or shooting plastic army men with rubber bands. He wandered the decrepit parking lot that served as the playground and waited for his only friend to finish his lunch. His friend's nickname was Pumpkin-head. His ruddy complexion, orange hair, and round head made the nickname inevitable, but the boy had only called him that once.

The boy's pacing betrayed his impatience and his envy. Pumpkin-head was always late getting out because he had to wait in line to get a lunch from the hot lunch line while the boy only had to wash down his peanut butter sandwich and starcrunch with the grape Hi-C from his Thermos. The boy kept looking back toward the double doors where his friend would emerge. Students were beginning to file out. Lately, he and Pumpkin-head had been conducting rock wars against each other. This consisted of running up and down an eroded embankment, finding the perfect projectile, and launching it at your best friend. For some reason, none of the other high school students joined in the game, but both of the boys lacked the self-consciousness too much notice or care.

Looking for some ammunition, the curves of a small, gray and white stone caught the boy's eye. It was perfect. Even before he picked it up, he could feel the coolness of the stone fitting into the curve of his index finger as though it was made to go there. He picked it up and imagined throwing it. He wanted to show it to his friend. He caught movement by the building. The door opened thirty yards away. Pumpkin-head stepped out of the darkened lunchroom into the full sun of a cloudless day. The orange sphere stood blinking in the sun, eyes trying to adjust and unable to spot his friend. Knowing the range was extreme at the least, the boy thought to throw the rock in his hand at the building, hoping the crash would startle Pumpkin-head, who still hadn't spotted the boy with the rock.

The boy's arm and hand snapped, his body twisted, and with the combined energy stored in a peanut butter sandwich, grape Hi-C, and a starcrunch, he released the rock. Time seemed to slow down. Pumpkin-head blinked slowly as the meteor tumbled in the crisp, clear air. The boy stood with arm still extended, following the flight of the rock. At its apogee, the boy was struck with the divine knowledge that the rock was on target and would strike Pumpkin-head. His mouth opened to yell as his mind raced through the possibilities: Pumpkin-head’s head smashed open like a, well, like a pumpkin, or the rock lodging his Pumpkin-head’s eye, or having to explain to his parent’s how he killed Pumpkin-head with a rock. But as the meteor began its rapid descent, time sped back up, and no warning came out. The rock struck home about one inch above the point directly between Pumpkin-head's eyes. The boy’s heart was racing with anticipation, fear, and guilt; he didn't know whether to laugh, run like crazy, or get help. Pumpkin-head, blinking with the impact, stood for a moment stunned as he wondered what force was at work that could reach out and strike him as soon as he came outside. He began rubbing his forehead. He looked up. He looked left and right. No one was near. He looked down and saw the guilty meteorite. He picked it up and, while he was still in a crouch, his eyes met his friend's across the parking lot. In an instant he knew. He had been ambushed. The boy, elated that Pumpkin-head yet lived, turned and ran, laughing with joy and pride in the finest throw he had ever made, wishing only that someone had seen it.

Peace

24 August 2005

An Amazing Fact

Ten years ago, my wife and I bought a Pentium I w/ MMX technology. What is MMX technology, you may ask. I don't know, but it was new and was packed with 16 MBs of Ram. The computer burned through two hard drives in six months. The third hard drive is still going strong. We subscribed to MSN. I didn't want to, but I tried all of the pre-installed icons on my desktop, and MSN was the only one that worked (I wonder why that was?). I got my first e-mail address. Ten years later, I still have that e-mail address, and it is still my primary one. I am in my third residence since that time, but my e-mail address has not changed. My guess is that few can say the same thing.
btw--50th post!


Peace

22 August 2005

Monday Miscellany

From my four year old boy last night:
"How is a banana like the moon?"
"I don't know, how is a banana like the moon?"
"It's a school bus."

He has also been trying out knock-knock jokes. The main problem is that he doesn't know any punch lines so they go like this:
"Knock, Knock!"
"Who's there?"
"Pop tart."
"Pop tart who?"
"Soup." Followed by uproarious laughing.

If you follow local Atlanta news, you may know that on Friday there was a police standoff in Alpharetta. Two local schools were on lock-down. My school was one of those. It was eerie to hear the helicopters circle without knowing what was going on. The eerieness was enhanced by the fact that the school is secluded by a dense forest. Fortunately, our high school was out for the day, but our lower school was in session.

Last week was our annual high school retreat. We went to a beautiful Young Life camp at Sharp Mountain Cove. Staying in a dorm with forty super-charged teenagers is not my idea of a good time. The advent of football at our school has led to many unintended consequences. One of which is that our boys are just as immature, but now they have the physical power of men. Over the course of one hour, we had to break up two fight-club style events and pull one boy's fist out of the wall after another student hit him with a belt. When questioned by yours truly, the student with the belt claimed to have hit the victim "delicate". Later, the assailant approched me to make sure I understood that it wasn't like the victim was kneeling down and being beaten by the assailant, instead the victim was sleeping in a top bunk, and he just kind of flipped the belt at him. That must explain why the victim was so mad that he put his fist through the wall. Got it.

On day one of my freshmen classes I introduced the term Tabula Rasa. Not a single student knew what it was until my final class of the day. One boy knew it and traced it to John Locke. After class I asked him how he knew what it was and how he had heard of John Locke. Four years of classical school. We need to do better.

Peace

17 August 2005

Sauce for the Goose

Occasionally, something will happen or something will be said that makes it all worthwhile. Yesterday, a fellow teacher gave me this good report: “I have a couple of your former students in my study hall. They’re seniors and they were lamenting the fact that they don’t have you as a teacher this year. They said, ‘If only we could have Mr. Chintzibobs one more time for one more class’ and ‘Yeah, just for one more class, I don’t care what it would be’.” Only a couple of hours later, a student on probationary admittance burst out on the second day of class, “You know, I used to hate English. Now this is the only class that I look forward to going to during the day.” The class was a chorus of "amens" (metaphorically speaking).
I don’t usually toot my own horn, but I have needed a little bit of tooting lately. So, toot-toot.

Now, publish post and glow.

Peace

11 August 2005

Pre-Planning, Day Four

Yesterday: meetings. Lunch: sandwiches and three varieties of salad.
Today: meetings. Lunch: leftovers.
Tomorrow: meeings.

I finally got half of my order from Amazon. The second half should be here tomorrow. Since my family is not here tonight, I watched it. Saints and Soldiers. S and S is a World War II story set amid the snow of the Battle of the Bulge. Having read a little about it on Amazon, I suspected it was Mormon made. The movie reinforced my suspicion, and a little more internet reading confirmed it. The Mormons are fine film-makers. While the movie has some flaws, it is an outstanding film and will be quite useful if I ever get to teach history again. Its PG-13 is for war-related violence. Its themes are thoughtful, spiritual, and not overtly Mormon. In fact, if I had not read about the movie before I saw it, I would not have know. Why do Christians fail to create art that rises above mediocre?

Peace

10 August 2005

Pre-Planning, Day Three

Yesterday's lunch: BBQ pork from Slopes, corn on the cob floating in butter, green beans cooked until nearly mashed, baked beans. Another manly meal.

Yesterday's class was excellent. It was taught by Dr. Jeff Myers of Summit Ministries at Bryan College. Last year we has John Stonestreet (of the same group) in to talk to the students. These guys are excellent. Articulate, intelligent, engaging, and wise in preparing students for the intellectual challenges of today's culture and the hostility of the college classroom to Christianity (or any claims to absolute truth). My only complaint about these guys is their constant reliance on statistics supplied by one researcher, George Barna. Not to knock Barna, for all I know he does fine work, but basing an argument on one statistical source is not the most intellectually honest process. All of these guys, as well as the leadership at ACSI, are doing an incredible job of defining the need for a biblical worldview and explaining how that can be accomplished in our students.

Today, we have three meetings for a total of five and quarter hours of meetings. Lunch will be provided. I will let you know how it goes. Lunch, that is.

09 August 2005

Three Movies

I was able to get in the viewing of three movies this past weekend, the last one of my summer. I watched Tae Guk Gi (The Brotherhood of War) at home on Friday, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory at the theater with my wife on Saturday afternoon, and Admissions on Saturday evening at home with my wife.

Tae Guk Gi is a Korean movie about the Korean War. I do not believe that I have ever watched a Korean movie before; I shall have to make it a habit. The movie is massively violent. The violence, however, often lacks real emotional force as a result of its very gratuitousness. At other times, the violence is deeply disturbing and once, heartrending. The movie utilizes a framing device much like Saving Private Ryan. The purpose of the framing in Ryan is to further the theme that the survivors of World War II and the beneficiaries of the victory (us) should endeavor to “earn” the unfathomable sacrifices made to gain the victory by living a good life (i.e. work hard, create a solid and loving family, live virtuously, and pause to occasionally remember the lost); the framing in Tae Guk Gi is much more complex. It reveals the persistent freshness of a fifty-year-old wound that cannot be healed until the nation is whole again. I feel that I have been shown a brief but intense glimpse into the grief of a people torn asunder by a brutal, civil war that has never really ended. I am not sure if it is fortunate or not that the director often lapses into action-movie style battle sequences and horror-movie style violence. A Ryan-type of battle realism might have made this movie impossible to watch. This movie left me more deeply moved than Ryan did (and that is saying a lot). Ryan left me with a sense of completion. Tae Guk Gi left me in prayer that one day, Korea shall be reunited, and that the specter of war, which has not left Korea for over one hundred years, will be replaced with a new era of peace.

Admissions was a random pickup at Blockbuster. I can never seem to rent just one. Amazingly, it is a Sundance movie that is rated PG. The six previews of other Sundance that came with the movie were for movies that were all rated “R”. From the box: “Evie, a rebellious 17-year-old, sabotages her interviews at prestigious colleges. To hide her deception, Evie lies about her savant sister’s poetry, setting off a chain of events which include an infamous TV appearance, a new love, and the revelation of a long buried family secret.” It would be a classic Lifetime movie if it were not so well done. The acting, dialogue, and writing were all solid. The movie itself was solid, but not great. Good, clean, thoughtful…a rare combination.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. There is so much I could say about this movie. I love the book. I love the original movie. Gene Wilder is brilliant as Willie Wonka. I love the new movie. Johnny Depp is brilliant as Willie Wonka. Tim Burton has created a masterpiece that should stand the test of time. Only criticisms: I hated three of the four songs (but I loved the guy playing all of the Oompa Lumpas). The squirrel scene was a bit too intense for younger viewers. The back-story that Tim Burton created for Willie Wonka changed the focus of the story from Charlie to Willie. I found Charlie’s character un-compelling and flat. I didn’t feel the heartbreak and joy for him that I felt for the original Charlie. In addition, the need to get to the back-story led to Burton hurrying the characters through the chocolate factory, curtailing the sense of wonder for the factory. All of these are minor complaints. I found the movie well worth paying full-price at the theater (I don't say that very often). It was funny, beautiful, and very Burton.

Three movies and I liked all three. What I great weekend.

Peace

Pre-Planning, Day Two

Day one was slow. I began to put away my stuff (I was moved this year from the history side of the hallway to the English side of the hallway). I had to request an extra cabinet for all of the history stuff that I will not be using this year. We had a short department head's meeting at Red Lobster. I had fried fish, fried shrimp, fried potatoes, and three Cokes (real Cokes; I needed the caffeine to restart my heart). There is nothing that you cannot make better by frying. My mom used to get me to eat vegetables by frying them. I enjoyed fried squash, zucchini, and okra as sides to my main course of fried chicken hearts and gizzards. Our bread for the meal was fried corn bread. I was the first eight year old to survive a quadruple by-pass.

During college, I worked for a place called Joe's-to-Go's delivering Joe Dogs, Joe Burgers, Joe Shakes, Joe Fries, well, you get the idea. We were entitled to free grub. I usually choose the 1/4 pound, all beef, Oscar Meier weiner, deep-fried on a toasted bun with cheese, chili, and ketchup. And a side of the delicious Joe steak fries. Deep-frying a hot dog gives it a nice crispy shell and is not greasy.

Today, we have a seven hour class. The school is providing lunch. Lunch around here has previously been planned by women. Hence, no frying of anything. Instead, we could count on a pasta salad, high-fiber lettuce with a sweet dressing, unsweet tea, and something shoved inside some bread (but not resembling a sandwich in any way). The new boss likes steak. Our end of the year lunch last Spring was steak and mashed potatoes. Several women fainted and had to be revived by waving steamed broccoli under their noses.

Peace

08 August 2005

Major Malfunction?

While teaching William Blake's "The Tyger" this past year, one of my students asked, "What's an anvil?" I attempted to explain an anvil by alluding to classic WB cartoons. Some of my students were completely clueless. I realized that a lot of the common cultural memories given to previous generations by the existence of only three networks will be missing in the present generation. Few things will reach all people. There will always be moments of great import like the Kennedy assassination, the moon landing, or 9/11. But the smaller things will not be as commonly shared within a generation and the bigger things will have to be truly big to get anyone's attention above the clutter of IM, www, cable, and gaming. I was reminded of this while watching the work presently being done on the space shuttle. The Challenger disaster was a defining moment of my childhood. On the day of the Columbia disaster, I was at the thrift store when the news came over the store's display of thirty-year-old TV's. It was a Sunday. I came to school the next day prepared to discuss the import of the event and the tragedy of the loss. They didn't care. The overall attitude of my classes was one of "People die everyday, why is this different?" Knowing that a large number of them go to the same Sunday night youth group, I guessed that the youth pastor had talked about it along these themes. But they bought into it; the next day they forgot it happened. I still get chills when I see footage of the Challenger taking off and exploding in a "major malfunction". I don't think our culture has figured out what the influx of such a massive amount of information and entertainment, much of it of questionable value, will have on the information generation. I fear we are losing our common center, our common culture. This, perhaps, explains the unquestioned acceptance of post-modern philosophy. We are free to shape a personal culture for ourselves from a half-baked smorgasboard of ideas and values. I had more to say about this, but I have forgotten it. Alas. Dang information overload. I gotta go check my three e-mail addresses.

Peace

Pre-Planning Begins!

I am sitting here in my new room at school, drinking a Diet Cherry Coke, looking at the stacks of books and files and papers mountained up on the tables, listening to Midnight Oil's 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wondering, can I do it another year? Do I want to do it another year?

My son has informed us that he is to be refered to as "Super-xxxx" from now on. His super powers are jumping and fire (Spyro the Dragon). The entire family is "super". My power is painting. My wife's power is clean clothes. My two year old girl's power is crying (amen brother). Anything can be a cape, a piece of paper, a piece of plastic, a blanket, etc. When he came home Saturday night from a long day out he began to sort everything in the room by color. Pray for us.

Peace

05 August 2005

Friday Miscellany

  • Incongruous? You be the judge. The title of my last two posts:
    Steven Vincent Murdered in Iraq
    Powder Puff Girls Fraud Alert
    Do I need two blogs?

  • I am working on this at school. That is the good news. My school's blocking software doesn't block blogger.com or blogspot addresses. The bad news is that they will probably block it as soon as they see someone using it. Nearly everything else entertaining on the www has been blocked.

  • I have become convinced that Amazon has changed their shipping procedures. They have a thing called "FREE Super Saver Shipping". They have had it for years. It means that there is no charge for shipping (which is where many online stores make their money). When I first started utilizing "FREE Super Saver Shipping", I would usually receive my order within a week, often within a few days. Recently, their "Super Saver" orders come a full two weeks after ordering. They have also been pushing "Amazon Prime", a subscription service that offers "Free Two-day shipping" for $79.00 a year. Coincidence?

  • I just checked my order. Uh-oh. I have a message in red: "Important Message We thought you should know that we're experiencing a delay with your order. We apologize for any inconvenience. Please take note of the revised shipping and delivery estimates marked in red below." and "Your order contains 2 shipments. Delivery estimate: August 15, 2005 - September 1, 2005". I ordered the two items on July 23.

  • My son woke up the other morning and began talking to his sister. He won't leave his room until one of us tells us he can, so he leans out the door and talks into his sister's room. His morning conversations with her are always entertaining. On Monday, he talked about dreams. He made up dreams for everybody and told about his dream of flying. Then he made up one for the cat. Apparently, the cat dreamed that "A dog was barking at her so she bit him."

  • My son is going through the "This is funny?" stage. He uses the sentence is three ways:
  1. As a question. "This is funny?" Emphasis on "This".
  2. As an unsure statement. "This is funny?" No emphasis
  3. As an exclamation. "This is funny!" Emphasis on "funny".

He is discovering classic cartoons. Watching him respond with his various uses of "This is funny" is quite entertaining. He instinctively knows funny when he sees it, but his attempts at recreating that humor are hit or miss.

  • I was at the thrift store tonight, looking at books. I found a number of books belonging to the same man. The books dated from the 50's through the 70's. Clearly, the man was a history teacher. There were dictionaries, history textbooks, a set of World War II reference books, political science books, and other academically themed volumes. Either he is dead or has no more use for books. I bought a couple of them (even though I will not be teaching history this year). I was powerfully struck by a thought that made me feel very small: One day, there will be shelf of books in a thrift store with my name written carefully inside the front cover in faded black sharpie. Some of them will be bought; some will not; most will end up in the trash. I will be gone, and no one will no what it means that those books are sitting on that shelf in a thrift store.

  • Next week is teacher pre-planning. Look forward to my dispatches from the front lines of teacher training.

Peace

03 August 2005

Steven Vincent Murdered in Iraq

Steven Vincent, a journalist that I have personaly enjoyed over the past couple of years, has been murdered in Iraq. An eyewitness of 9/11, he was a man who recognized the attack for what it was and threw himself into the task with the skills that he possessed. His desire for a better Iraq and safe America were unquestioned. Unfortunately, his willingness to tell the truth about Iraq and the corruption that still stymies its freedom has gotten him murdered.

Some accounts:
CNN
His Blog: In the Red Zone (includes links to his recent work)
His most recent work


Everyday the work goes on in Iraq and Afghanistan. Too frequently, someone pays the price for that work to continue. We must not forget.

Peace

02 August 2005

Powder Puff Girls Fraud Alert

Earlier today:
Hello?"
"Hi. This is Jack from Blockbuster Video. I'm calling because the Powder Puff Girls movie that you returned today was missing its disk."
"Powder Puff Girls?"
"Yes, sir. It was returned today and the disk was missing."
"The Powder Puff Girls was missing its disk."
"Yes, sir. The disk was missing. This happens alot. People just forget to take it out of their DVD player."
"I can understand why someone would want to hold on to the Powder Puff Girls movie, but I am fairly certain that no one here has ever rented a Powder Puff Girls movie."
"Well, could you check?"
"I really don't think that was us."
"If you could see if anyone there might have rented it."
"It's not really a type of thing one would rent illicitly is it?"
"No, sir. If you could just check and see if you might still have the disk. We will have to charge your account for the replacement price of the disk if we can't get it back."
"Um. I see. Sure. I'll check."

Later today:
Beep
"Mom, Dad. Blockbuster just called me to see if I had their Powder Puff Girls movie disk. Do you know anything about this? Call me back."

Moments ago:
"Well son, we went to Blockbuster to get a video for your niece and I forgot my card. So they put in our last name, and your account came up. We put it on your account. Your dad just forgot to put the disk back in the case when he took it back today."
"Oh, well that's no problem, mom."
"Just another thing. You had a free video on your account....we took it. We were going to tell you. I have a coupon for a free video to give you."

What is the saying about children eventually having to become the parents to their parents?