Pardon the Interruption

Moving Day

2006-01-28T22:25:00.000-08:00

http://web.mac.com/taylorcox/iWeb/PTI/Blog/Blog.html

The hopeless struggle of The Thinker

2006-01-23T18:26:00.000-08:00

Auguste Rodin's "The Thinker" has long been a symbol of desirable enlightenment. The questions of the world swirl around in his head, uninterrupted; he has eternity to carefully consider each mystery. His eyes are fixed downward, his body is relaxed--the physical world is a whirlwind around him, but he doesn't budge from his slouched pensive state. For there are mysteries to solve, revelations to seek.

The Thinker's hand will never move from its spot below the head. It will never build, it will never comfort, it will never write, it will never help--it even covers the mouth, preventing any sort of speech. He will never be a man of action.

For all of his years of reflection, The Thinker is a waste.

I wonder what he would do, should he rise.

2005 Year in Review (Part 2)

2006-01-08T18:56:00.000-08:00

To be quite honest, the only reason I'm making a part 2 to this silliness is because, by having a "Part 1," I implied that there would be a part 2. And I don't want to be known as a deceitful person.

-In 2005, I successfully completed my first year of college. The kid inside of me tells me that I am now officially old.
-In 2005, I spent easily over 100 hours (in the summer alone) shooting and editing video. About one third of that time was spent capturing footage, which is plenty boring enough to make up for any excitement I got out of being video man.
-In 2005, the Atlanta Braves won their unprecedented 14th division title in a row, which led them to an unprecedented 18-inning Game 4 thriller against the Houston Astros, which they lost, to give them an unprecedented playoff series losing streak.
-In 2005, I predicted that fall term of my sophomore year would be the toughest stretch I'd encountered so far in my life. My prediction expertise apparently goes beyond picking football scores. So no more predictions.
-In 2005, the BCM Fighting-But-Still-Showing-The-Love-of-Jesus Baptist Co-Ed Softball team won the Furman Rec League championship. The key: lose to a team four times in a row, and you have them right where you want them.
-In 2005, I finished second in the Seesalt Putt-Putt Invitational. Again.
-In 2005, I gained a sister and a newfound frustration with wedding photographers. And Christopher Cox rejoiced.
-In 2005, I got an iMac. And TJ Cofield rejoiced.
-In 2005, the Furman Fighting Football Paladins finished #3 in the polls, with an 11-3 record and a trip to the National Semifinals. And expectations were high enough that this feat still managed to be disappointing.
-In 2005, I learned that I will probably not be an economist.
-In 2005, I used a computer in the James B. Duke Library for the last time. If you know what's good for you, follow this example.
-In 2005, my little sister continued to be not so little anymore, as she continues to amaze me with her growth and maturity. But she still has the attention span of a goldfi--Oh, Look! A Castle!
-In 2005, God started revealing a glimmer of purpose for my life. I couldn't ask for anymore.

To all of you that I love, I thank you for the many things you have done for me in the last year that I could never hope to repay you for.

Well, that's that. I'm going to sleep.

2005 Year in Review (Part 1)

2005-12-29T20:30:00.000-08:00

(Note: I do not claim that the following are the BEST songs, movies, etc. of 2005. These are my favorites of 2005. There is no rhyme, reason, voting, or computer composite poll involved. If one list has only four items, it is because I felt that only four were worthy of recognition. Now, on to the winners...)

Top Songs of 2005:
10. "Nothing But the Blood," from Redemption Songs--Jars of Clay
>>>>>Jars of Clay is good. And so are The Blind Boys of Alabama. But putting them together? Now that's genius.

9. "Daisy," from Nothing is Sound--Switchfoot
>>>>>Daisy=Furman students. Let it go, people.

8. "Suspension," from The Everglow--Mae
>>>>>It's a good song, definitely, but it makes this list for the jam session during the bridge.

7. "My Heavenly," from iTunes Originals--Jars of Clay
>>>>>I always said about the original, "this would be incredible if it was more stripped down and focused on vocals and piano more." And apparently someone listened.

6. "You Have My Attention," from In Motion--Copeland
>>>>>Yeah, Copeland is a little emo-esque, but I don't fault Johnny Cash for being country-esque, either. Look for this song during BCM Dinner Theater 2006.

5. "Swallowed in the Sea," from X&Y--Coldplay
>>>>>The catchiest song ever.

4. "The Everglow," from The Everglow--Mae
>>>>>I'm not sure what it is about this song, but it gives me an overwhelming sense of hope.

3. "Fix You," from X&Y--Coldplay
>>>>>Yes, everyone in the world likes this song, but for a good reason.

2. "Till Kingdom Come," from X&Y--Coldplay
>>>>>More heartfelt, real, and moving than most "overtly Christian" music you'll ever hear.

1. "The Blues," from Nothing is Sound--Switchfoot
>>>>>"Is this the Kingdom, or just a hit and miss?" Good question....easily one of the most relevant songs I've ever heard.

Top Albums of 2005:
My top songs of the year kind of make this category pretty obvious.
4. Redemption Songs--Jars of Clay
>>>>>This album reminded me that A)Hymn texts can be very moving, and B)Setting them to better music really helps.

3. Nothing is Sound--Switchfoot
>>>>>Will it be as popular as The Beautiful Letdown? Nope. That's because it's better.

2. The Everglow--Mae
>>>>>Instantly listenable. I'm not sure what that means, but that's what this album is. I'm also a sucker for piano-based rock and poetic lyrics. (See Coldplay.)

1. X&Y--Coldplay
>>>>>Some good albums came out this year, but X&Y takes the top spot without breaking a sweat. It doesn't break any ground, it's not very innovative, and it won't set the world on fire. It is simply amazing music. Coldplay has mastered the ablility to create songs that are insanely likable. And while it is friendly to the masses, it dares to cross into that forbidden realm (in popular music) called "meaningful." It's the best album yet from the best band out there right now.

Top TV Shows of 2005:
1. Lost
>>>>>I don't watch much TV, but I would still own one if Lost was the only show on. It has the market cornered on amazing depth, writing, acting, stories, and (best of all) cliffhangers.

Top Movies of 2005:
7. Sahara
>>>>>If it wins anything come Oscar time, then the academy has failed. But it's one of the better fun popcorn movies in recent years.

6. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
>>>>>I didn't read the books, but the movie made me laugh almost to the point of tears.

5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
>>>>>It's exactly what middle/high school was like for me....you know, plus dragons and evil lords. The Harry Potter movies started out as mediocre, but at this point, the series has aged very well.

4. Batman Begins
>>>>>What is this? Plot? Character depth? Emotion? Moral struggle? Ladies and gentleman, this is Batman the way it should be done.

3. Cinderella Man
>>>>>One of the most beautiful movies I have ever seen. By the time the credits rolled, I was in awe.

2. Walk the Line
>>>>>Joaquin and Reese, I would lobby for Oscars for the both of you if I could.

1. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
>>>>>All they had to do was faithfully recreate the vision of the book, and I would have been sold. Mission accomplished.

A Rescue

2005-12-24T21:02:00.000-08:00

There was once a land stuck in a very deep darkness. You wouldn't know it by merely looking; the sun rose and set everyday, and the stars illuminated the night sky. Even so, the darkness was all too real. You could feel it, hear it, maybe even smell it. And the worst part was that every man, woman, and child was bound to this darkness. Whether they knew it or not, the darkness invaded every moment they'd been given; the gift of life could not run from its tarnishing touch.

This was a battle without hope of victory. The enemy had moved long past the stage of infiltration--it was the occupier. All man could do was attempt to continue life as normal. Some were aware of their captivity, but most continued on in a state of ignorance, blissful or otherwise. However, it was a life doomed to failure from the start--no matter what man could achieve, he would eventually be completely swallowed up in the darkness.

It was the only reality this land knew.

Then, in the most unsuspecting of towns, the most unsuspecting woman gave birth to a child as frail as every other newborn. At the same time, in the heavens, the horn sounded, and the hosts drew together for an unprecedented gathering. And in the sky, a bright light pierced the darkness. It was but one star in the vast emptiness...but it was there nonetheless. And as the little child cried in the arms of his mother, the heavenly hosts descended upon the land to sing a song just as sweet.

And in every sleeping household, the heavy, stagnant air suddenly stirred with life. In every field, tired workers found strength to climb up off the ground. In every alley, the downtrodden could find a sky that shined much brighter. And in every heart, once cold and broken, we found something to long for.

For hope had finally arrived.

Confessions of a mind with too much time on its hands...Part 1

2005-12-17T21:25:00.000-08:00

--Except minds don't have hands. That's the sort of thing that you realize when you have too much time to think about it.
--Water is the most vital substance on earth. We can't live without it. Beyond that, we enjoy it so much that we carve out holes in our backyard, fill them with water, and jump in. But, on the other hand, water seems to be the bane of our existence. In Genesis, water ultimately symbolized chaos, and I think that's a pretty accurate description. The Gulf Coast can vouch for that. And then, it rains some, then the water freezes on the trees, the trees fall, and millions of people are left in the dark. What's life without a little irony?
--Why is Stanford University "the Cardinal"? Are they too good for a plural mascot? Are they above such conformity? Is it a pseudo-intellectual plot to get bored sports fans to ask this very question, and ultimately decide it is because Stanford is special? And why is their physical mascot a plush tree with eyes? Is there a cardinal hiding somewhere in the tree? Do we even know that they're referring to a bird in the first place? A Church clergyman would be much more interesting than a bird. Or maybe "the cardinal directions"...
--Stanford's playing Virginia Tech on TV right now. What in the world is a Hokie?
--I'm now convinced that all single people experience a common phenomenon: they wake up one morning and decide that, because they are single, and have been for X amount of time, they will forever be single. (I'm not sure how this conclusion is reached, but it is nearly inevitable.) Soon after, they convince themselves that there are more important things in life, and that they are silly for worrying. Then they go further in that direction, imagining their life as a noble single person, able to accomplish so much good for the world because of the lack of the dating/marriage distraction. Then they realize that that wouldn't be all that much fun half of the time, without close companionship to give and receive. In fact, the thought is pretty distressing. They then shake their head, realizing the futility of worrying about something that will likely take care of itself, and go back to business as normal.
--A friend told me tonight that going to Furman for one semester has made her feel like she doesn't belong in her hometown. I know very few people who have not experienced a major ideological change since being at Furman, and one consequence of this is a feeling of betrayal to the ideas that once encompassed you and your old friends. The temptation to avoid is believing that you are suddenly "right" and they are "wrong." Unfortunately, I've seen some give in to this temptation, and it comes off simply as arrogance.
--WKRP Cincinnati was the Sports Night of its time.
--What is the point of dragging two college basketball teams to a preseason tournament thousands of miles away so that they can play in front of 500 locals and dedicated fans? It's inconvenient for the players, the fans, and the people actually trying to make money off of the venture. It's as simple as supply and demand: is there a great demand for Virginia Tech/Stanford basketball in Las Vegas, Nevada? Or even better, how about South Carolina and Furman in Alaska? That certainly brought the big bucks in.
--I'm heading to bed. Always remember to brush your teeth, kids.

A Tribute to Sports Night

2005-12-12T19:57:00.000-08:00

I'm on a Sports Night kick. Well, not really. But if I had the complete series on DVD, I would be on a Sports Night kick. I plan on rectifying that matter soon enough. Anyways, one of the brilliant things about IMDB.com is the "memorable quotes" section. Tonight, I stumbled upon a gold mine of Sports Night quote goodness. It's a little long, but it needs to be preserved. Enjoy.

[During a bomb scare]
Casey McCall: Is there anyone who can say anything that will make us feel like the smart thing to do is to stay in this building right now?
Dana Whitaker: In ten minutes, three and a half million people will tune in to watch the two of you on television. Many of them will be women.
Casey McCall: ...All right.
--------
Isaac: Let me add, Dana, that things I say in my office stay in my office.
Dana Whitaker: Natalie's my, my second in command. She's the only one I told.
Natalie: Jeremy's my boyfriend. He's the only one I told.
Jeremy Goodwin: I told many, many people.
--------
Jeremy Goodwin: Fire me.
Isaac: What?
Jeremy Goodwin: You heard me, I want you to fire me.
Isaac: I'm not going to fire you.
Jeremy Goodwin: I'm a terrible worker, I'm the last to arrive and the first to leave.
Isaac: You're the first to arrive and the last to leave.
Jeremy Goodwin: And don't you think that's a little strange?
Isaac: Yes.
Jeremy Goodwin: I'm a racist.
Isaac: Jeremy...
Jeremy Goodwin: I am, I'm a terrible racist. I think all those people with the funny accents and weird skin color should go back to wherever they came from and leave this country to the people who rightfully stole it from the Indians... which they deserved.
Isaac: Jeremy...
Jeremy Goodwin: I'm serious, this country is being ruined by the blacks and the Jews.
Isaac: You're Jewish.
Jeremy Goodwin: And I have to be stopped.
--------
[During the Y2K test]
Dana Whitaker: Jeremy? Jeremy.
Jeremy Goodwin: It's gonna be okay.
Dana Whitaker: Is ALL the power out?
Jeremy Goodwin: What do you mean?
Dana Whitaker: Is all the POWER out?
Jeremy Goodwin: No, of course not.
Dana Whitaker: What'd we lose?
Jeremy Goodwin: We lost the control room.
Dana Whitaker: Yes.
Jeremy Goodwin: And the studio.
Dana Whitaker: Okay.
Jeremy Goodwin: The newsroom and the offices, editing, graphics, engineering, sound.
Dana Whitaker: Is anything working?
Jeremy Goodwin: No.
Dana Whitaker: I thought you said we didn't lose all power.
Jeremy Goodwin: I thought you meant in the whole city.
--------
Dan Rydell: Is this one of those times when you say you don't want to talk about it, but you really do?
Casey McCall: No, but it's shaping up to be one of those times when I say I don't want to talk about it, but we end up talking about it anyway.
--------
Dan Rydell: I gotta tell ya, at this point the length of this conversation is way out of proportion to my interest in it.
--------
Dan Rydell: [on the air] We'll bring you the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat-and, because we've got soccer highlights, the sheer pointlessness of a zero-zero tie. You're watching Sports Night on CSC, so stick around.
--------
Dan Rydell: You're nineteen feet tall, why are you wearing heels?
Sally Sasser: Do you feel diminutive?
Dan Rydell: No, but now I have to look up that word.
--------
Sally Sasser: Sam?
Sam: Susie.
Sally Sasser: Sally.
Sam: Okay.
Sally Sasser: This meeting's not going that well is it?
Sam: No. The good news is an hour from now I'm not going to remember who you are.
--------
Casey McCall: Can we be men for a second?
Dan Rydell: Okay, but just a second.
--------
Casey McCall: "October the Eighth, Nineteen Hundred and Ninety Eight, A.D." A.D... They're worried I might accidentally show up 2,000 years before the birth of Christ.
--------
Sam Donovan: You shouldn't think that just because I'm looking at you while you're talking to me, that I'm necessarily listening to or caring about what you're saying. It's just something I do to be polite.
--------
Natalie: What did you do?
Casey McCall: I did what I do, Natalie. I did what I do.
Dan Rydell: You screwed up your romantic life in front of fifth-graders?
--------
Casey McCall: What kind of punch was it?
Chuck 'The Cut Man' Kimmel: It was a right hook... with a bit of a jab.
Casey McCall: A jabbing right hook?
Chuck 'The Cut Man' Kimmel: That's right, Casey.
Casey McCall: And he threw it with his left hand?
Chuck 'The Cut Man' Kimmel: This fighter's got remarkable skills, Casey, he's not to be trifled wtih.
--------
Isaac: Someone holds the copyright to Happy Birthday?
Dan Rydell: The representatives of Mildred and Patty Hill.
Isaac: It took two people to write that song?
--------
Dan Rydell: You're gonna need to get someone to fix my computer.
Kim: What's wrong with it?
Dan Rydell: It's in several pieces on my floor.
--------
Dan Rydell: [referring to bombs after a bomb scare] What are the advanced ways they have of detecting these things?
Dana Whitaker: Dan...
Dan Rydell: What are the advanced ways?
Dana Whitaker: [pause] Well, as I understand it, they use dogs.
Dan Rydell: I'm outta here.
Casey McCall: Right behind you.
Dana Whitaker: Oh get ahold of yourselves, would ya?
Casey McCall: Dogs?
Dana Whitaker: Dogs. Yes. Specially-trained dogs.
Dan Rydell: We want to meet them.
Dana Whitaker: Guys...
Dan Rydell: We want to meet the dogs right now.
Dana Whitaker: Okay. And what will you say to the dogs when you meet them?
Dan Rydell: [pause] She's got a decent point.
Casey McCall: Yeah.
--------
[to assistant U.S. attorney for the Southern district Gordon Gage B.A., M.A., J.D. - aka Dana's boyfriend]
Casey McCall: You know... it really wasn't my intention to discuss any Dana-related matters. No, I was just reading this "New York Times" piece on the forensic evidence, the ballistics match, the eyewitnesses, and the 78 hours worth of wiretaps, a portion of which included the defendant saying, "I killed him. I killed him. I killed him dead"... and was wondering what the heck a fella has to do to get thrown in jail on your watch.
--------
Casey McCall: Alyson, do you know I speak four languages?
Dan Rydell: You speak three languages.
Casey McCall: I speak four languages.
Dan Rydell: You speak French, Spanish and German.
Casey McCall: I dabble in a little English.
--------

Monsters, Monsters Everywhere

2005-12-12T09:05:00.000-08:00

If you walked onto the campus of Furman University anytime during the last week, you would find a very quiet, peaceful atmosphere. You might see a few people walking from their dorms to the library or to the student center, but chances are, your only companions would be the crisp, cold air, and a plethora of squirrels digging and rummaging on the ground (looking for acorns, I assume).

However, just like a sleepy New England coastal town in a Steven King novel, things are not always as they seem. The truth of the matter is, a number of epic battles rage on during exam time. Everyone has their monsters; and they always seem to crawl out from under the bed during this blessed season.

My week has been nothing but monsters. Not the PG-13 kind, but the less deadly, PG kind that make a good story in the end.

First off, on Friday, I battled for the last time a monster that has plagued me all semester long. From the start of classes, I have suffered from some of the most unfortunate scheduling possible--either that, or my professors have teamed up in some cruel scheme to destroy me once and for all (They've all treated me kindly enough...was it a cover up?). My hardest class, by a long shot, has been Economics. I'm not an Economist, and the language of numbers, for me, is slightly more complicated than some dialect of ancient Elvish that Tolkien concoted for The Lord of the Rings. Still, I'm a problem-solver, and I've survived my distaste for math and statistics and graphs in the past.

So the semester unfolded as follows: My first major economics test fell 5 minutes after my first major Paul test. My second major economics test fell on the same day as a Physics test. My Economics term paper was due the same day as my Paul term paper (which was also the same day as yet another Physics test). And finally, Friday--the first day of exams--the scheduling monster struck yet again, with Economics and Physics stepping up to the plate. In all, I've taken 2 tests this term that HAVEN'T fallen on the same day as another test or major grade. This monster dealt its blows through lower grades than expected this term, but I claim victory through my ability to maintain sanity and optimism.

Also during the last week, I saw The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and for the hundredth time watched both The Two Towers and The Return of the King. And those all have monsters in them. So they apply. Moving on...

Friday night after my exams, I fell victim to some sort of virus. Fever, headache, drainage, sore throat, upset stomach...a lovely sort of experience. This was especially inconvenient, because the next morning, I was supposed to be on a bus to head for Boone, North Carolina. And in Boone, the monsters are plentiful.

I have spent far too much time on this blog detailing the monsters that reside in Boone. When the Furman Fighting Football Paladins defeated Appalachian State in Greenville this October, I thought that those monsters had been slain. But Saturday I learned that the Appalachian State football team is not the monster; Boone is the monster. The thousands of drunk App students bent making life a living hell for anyone associated with Furman are the monsters. The spot on the left hashmark, just shy of the south endzone, where everything has gone wrong for the last 5 years, is the monster. It was one of those nightmarish tales, where the bad guys crush hope with defeat at the last possible second, and no condolence could be found anywhere for miles. As I fought sickness and disappointment on the winding, mountainous, 5-hour bus trip home, I promised myself that I would avoid Boone for as along as possible.

I sit here now at the end of the this admittedly over-the-top drama. I'm starting to feel better, I've gotten over the loss, and I only have one exam left, which will hopefully be bearable. The horror movie is nearing the end credits. Let's just hope they don't make a crappy sequel.

I-AA Semifinals: Furman at Appalachian State

2005-12-11T13:43:00.000-08:00

So there is a curse...

http://givetothewind.blogspot.com/2005/12/ice-patches.html

Movie Review: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

2005-12-08T23:52:00.000-08:00

I first read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe when I was 11 years old. I've read it four times in all, and I've read the entire series twice. Yes, I'm one of those C.S. Lewis people. When you read this kind of book as a kid, your imagination turns it into a movie (or at least mine did). Needless to say, I've been looking forward to this movie for about half of my life. So, at long last, my dream came true--and tonight, I got to see the Wardrobe open on the big screen. So did Andrew Adamson's vision live up to my impossibly high expectations?

There are a few facts that must be accepted going into this movie. First--the book is really short. Most book-to-movie adaptations have at least several hundred pages to work with, but Wardrobe (I'll call it that for the rest of the review) comes in at 200 pages even, and with pretty large type. So, Adamson had to flesh the movie out a little bit. And secondly--this is NOT The Lord of the Rings. The film was doomed from the beginning to be compared to Jackson's trilogy, and that is massively unfair. They are similar types of stories, as Tolkien took some pointers from Lewis' series. But Lewis was writing short children's books, and had a minimalist style (as opposed to the non-fiction books). On the other hand, you could take one of Tolkien's wordy, lengty books, and use it as a blunt object-type weapon. Lewis was going for childlike-wonder, Tolkien was going for the large-scale epic, and both succeed. Now, on to the film.

I give Andrew Adamson a B+ for his directing effort. He was given the job for his techie knowledge of CGI, and this is partly to the movie's benefit, considering the thousands of otherwordly, mythical creatures that had to be incorporated. However, he still needs to grow some in regards to capturing human emotion Sometimes he was right on the money (Stone Table), and other times, not so much. However, this is to be expected considering it is his first live action film. And to be honest, I was expecting worse. For the most part, he succeeds in capturing the wonder of the kids, but it doesn't get much more mature than that. As a picky 20 year old movie buff, this bothered me at times, but only a little bit.

Remembering that the dialogue in the book is pretty simplistic, I didn't expect to be blown away by any of the acting performances. Thankfully, I was very, very wrong. Tilda Swinton as the White Witch is perhaps one of the greatest casting decisions ever. She was perfect--even better than the White Witch my imagination created. The same also goes for Georgie Henley as Lucy. Her acting was good, for sure; but beyond that, she became the central focus of the attitude of the film. Never before have I seen such a moving portrayal of childlike wonder.

Other accolades go to James McAvoy, who played a fawn (man-goat) as well as anyone could expect; also to whoever voiced Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, who made a potentially cutesy pair (which I dreaded) believable and humorous. Susan and Edmund were better than par, but overshadowed by Lucy. Unfortunately, William Mosely as Peter just didn't work. In the book, Peter is the awkward yet caring older brother who grows into a brave hero. But Mosely never shifts out of awkward mode, and I almost found myself liking Edmund more than Peter, which is counterproductive for the story. And finally, Liam Neeson did a fair job voicing the impossible role of Aslan the Lion; his portrayal evokes respect and admiration for Aslan, but it doesn't quite pull off the fear that Aslan demands.

For me, the verdict came down to The Stone Table scene and the battle. If you screw those up, the movie's sunk. But thankfully, these are the moments that the movie shined.
I was worried that Adamson was going to go "Passion of the Lion" on the Stone Table, and beat Aslan to a bloody pulp. By today's movie standards, I expected it, and Christianty's current fixation on Christ's bloody suffering (thanks, Mel) would have permitted it, and maybe even wanted it. Instead, Adamson showed his potential as a director by stripping it back to a powerful feeling of hopelessness and apparent defeat. It's a sacrifice, not a massacre. It's important to nail the climax, and here, it's near-perfect.

Then there's the battle. In the book, it's only talked about secondhand, and it takes up maybe two pages. As a kid, I confess that I wanted to see more of the battle (I'm sorry Dad, and Mom, but I promise I'm not obsessed with violence). Well, here we see more--a lot more. In fact, I'm betting that Disney had to do some negotiating to keep this movie from being rated PG-13. It's not gory, but it's adequately intense, and amazingly rivals The Lord of the Rings in terms of execution and scale. It gives the story an epic feel that was only half-way present in the book, and caps off what is, otherwise, a mild adventure. Also, I don't want to spoil anything, but something very major is changed in regards to how the battle ends...and I applaud the change. Some would call me a blasphemer, but I think it works much better from a story-telling and theological perspective. Sorry, Jack.

So, in all, does the movie deliver? It's a tough call. Adamson and Mosley have some growing to do in regards to directing and acting, respectively. And the musical score, though good overall, has some moments of "eh..that could have been better." Howard Shore should have been given the job. However, so many things are pulled off well in this movie, that those flaws are canceled out.

Here's the shocker. Coming into tonight, my favorite movie of all time was The Return of the King (the crown jewel of the Lord of the Rings experience). And the Return of the King is a better movie than the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. But at this very moment, I actually like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe more. And I can't put my finger on why. Maybe because it has more powerful themes, maybe because I'm more attached to the story and characters, or maybe my inner-child is just taking over. Whatever it is, I walked out very satisfied. It's not perfect, but it does the vision of the book (if not the book itself) justice. Here's hoping that they get some things ironed out for Prince Caspian.

Score: 9 out of 10 talking beavers

(I'll get into the theological side of the movie another time...I have exams tomorrow.)

Merry Chri$tma$

2005-12-07T09:39:00.000-08:00

What's this? Two posts in one day? Sorry, I just couldn't resist.

The media today is reporting outrage from many over the fact that George W. Bush's Christmas card said "Happy Holidays." Many are questioning his faith, his salvation, his resolve, and so on. I'm not even going to give these accusations the dignity of argument.

However, what I would like to address is closely related. Many of the same people quoted in the article (from msnbc.com, if you're interested) are some of the same people boycotting retailers for not including Christmas in their advertising.

"You must use the word 'Christmas' in your advertising." Please take a moment to think about that concept.

I am confused. On one hand, we fret over the commercialization of Christmas. Then, on the other hand, we demand that the retailers, who are responsible for any form of commercialization, incorporate Christmas ideals, words, and symbols in their money-making venture. If you're going to take 25% off to raise overall profits, then darn it, you better do it in the spirit of Christmas.

Or maybe we're just desperate to feel like we're relevant and authoritative in this "post-Christian" age.

A lot of people don't celebrate Christmas; I'm not sure what cramming the word Christmas down their collective throats is supposed to accomplish. And most people who celebrate Christmas aren't really celebrating Christmas in the first place. And a good portion of these people are Christians. Let's stop using the word so recklessly.

So I would like to ask myself and everyone else: What is Christmas? And what does it have to do with a catalog or greeting card?

I-AA Playoffs, Semifinals: The Showdown (Part 2)

2005-12-07T08:55:00.000-08:00

There are some places that you would just rather not go.

Siberia. The Sahara. The Phillipine slums. Belk's.

And Boone, North Carolina.

I'm not what you would call mystical person, but there is something very strange and evil that resides in Boone's Kidd Brewer stadium, nestled between the picturesque Appalachian mountains.

It's been well-documented...by everyone from ESPN to USA Today to the crazy guy that stands on a box in downtown Greenville. When Furman and Appalachian State play, hide your children--the result of the game could seriously damage their emotional stability for years to come.

It was October 12, 2002. The showdown matched up top 10 teams in a Southern Conference-deciding clash. The game was hard-fought, low-scoring, and a nailbiter, as always. Down 14-9 late in the fourth quarter, Furman quarterback Billy Napier did what he usually did--led Furman on an inspiring, game-winning drive...or so we thought. When he found the legendary Bear Rineheart in the back of the endzone with 7 seconds left, purple-clad fans all of the southeast burst with jubilation, high fives, and other assorted acts of stupidity in attempt to express joy.

Suddenly up 15-14, Bobby Lamb decided he would make it a field goal game by going for 2. This was a decision that has haunted the Lamb family and the Paladin faithful ever since. I dare not speak of what happened on that 2-point converstion play. But in the end, the Mountaineers were piling ontop of each other in the opposite endzone, celebrating their 16-15 win. On that day, the Furman Paladins were one of the biggest goats the college football world had ever seen.

In 2004, the purple team returned to Boone. Quarterback Ingle Martin engineered a furious 22-point fourth quarter rally to put the Paladins up 29-23 with less than a minute left. Then App's all-everything quarterback, Richie Williams, twisted the dagger yet again, leaving Furman with a 30-29 defeat.

When the Mountaineers came to Greenville in October of this year, all eyes were on Paladin stadium. How would Furman blow it this time?

It was not to be. As I rushed the field following Furman's last second, 34-31 victory, it seemed that all demons had been exorcised. My father knew better. "It's not over yet," the prophet said.

On 7:30 Saturday morning, I'll join my Furman colleagues on a bus and head to Boone. The showdown has been billed as the most exciting playoff matchups in years. It doesn't matter what has happened in the past, no matter how heartbreaking or bizarre it was. Saturday, one team will take care of all family business.

I'm not even going to make a prediction. But if I was going to make a prediction, I'd say that it would be something along the lines of Furman 27, Appalachian State 24.

The Companionship of a Story

2005-12-04T19:52:00.000-08:00

If you want to know a man, get to know his friends.

If you want to know a man more, get to know his stories; the stories he knew, the stories he told, and the story he is working on. Stories seem to be the only I can learn anything; therefore, it's no surprise that I find myself so tied to the concept.

When we are children, the world is explained to us through stories. These stories are simple, ten pages long, and made of thick cardboard. There is never any real conflict in them--afterall, at three years old, we don't handle conflict so well. Instead, life and the world are presented as safe. It would do us no good to be scared of everything from the start, and to be quite honest, we never need much external prodding to be scared. We muster that up ourselves.

The stories grow up with us. Suddenly the ending isn't so predictable. Suddenly the boy and the girl are more than friends. Suddenly the pages become more black and white and the stories become more colorful. We learn the concepts of irony, the surprise ending, and distress.

On the surface, the story is escapist entertainment. We get to be someone else, while not actually making the decisions for ourselves. We get to go to far away places, do incredible things, and all of those other flowery things that your second grade teacher glowingly serenaded about.

At some point in your developing obsession, the stories become all too real. You identify with the characters themselves. They have flaws like you do. They have hopes, and more often than not, they fail to realize them. But just like every time you fall down, you hope even moreso for the happy ending. Or at least something close.

One day, your life becomes a story--no, this is not trivializing life, but rather confirming its epic quality. Your previous experience is the setting and context for your current trial. You know how you got here, but there's no telling what is on the next page. The more self-centered will look at those who have passed and those who are with him, and identify their roles as supporting characters. The wiser man, on the other hand, will realize the scope of the story, and the countless, equally important storylines.

Most well-told stories will frustrate us to no end. The injustices we can't change, the relationsips that can't be mended--these unfortunate plot elements become necessary in the end, when we realize the greater sense of purpose. I look at the world around me, confounded, without any inkling as to why an author would write such imperfections into what could be a blissful tale.....This was how I learned about redemption.

The story has become a close companion of mine. I know it all too well. And it doesn't matter what story it is; whenever I encounter one (or at least a good one), I feel like I'm in the company of someone I know. Stories have grown up with me, they've held me accountable. They've shown me my shortcomings, they've taught me to hope and aspire, and they've pointed me toward meaning. Well, again, at least the good ones have.

If I could, I would spend the rest of my life creating stories. I'd like to give people companions that could offer these wonders.

But then again, I'm not sure any of us can avoid writing stories.

I-AA Playoffs, Round 2: #3 Furman at #12 Richmond

2005-12-02T08:54:00.000-08:00

During Football season, I am constantly looking forward to Saturday. School, meals, sleep, time--these are merely obstacles standing in the way of Saturday. The actual importance of these games in my life is relatively minor...but there is no better reprieve from the reality of the world than a Saturday afternoon at Paladin Stadium. During the playoffs, this feeling is intensified exponentially.

So when the NCAA anncounced that Furman, ranked #3 nationally, would be traveling to #12 Richmond for the second round, I, along with an army of others, was on the brink of revolt. By all traditional guidelines established by the NCAA selection committee, Furman should have gotten the home game--we bid higher, we were ranked higher, and we have higher attendance. As it turns out, Furman is the first victim of a futile attempt by the NCAA to keep student athletes from playing on the road on consecutive weeks. Richmond played at #2 Hampton last week, so they get to stay home this week, even though nothing about their season performance merits a home game, at least when compared to Furman. Because of this monster the NCAA created, should Furman continue to succeed, they will on the road for THREE weeks in a row (@ Richmond, @App. State/Southern Illinois, and @Chattanooga for the National Championship). Well done, NCAA, well done.

Now, on to business. Last week, Furman had an identity crisis. The much maligned defense held #21 Nichols State, the nation's second best rushing team at 380ish yards rushing a game, to just 199 yards rushing and 12 points. On the other hand, Furman's offense, arguably the second best overall offense in the nation, was limited to just over 300 yards and 14 points. But, it's the playoffs, and I'll take a 14-12 victory every week. Richmond comes in after an impressive 38-10 blowout in Round 1 at #2 Hampton (Hampton? Overrated? Yes. Very yes.) . It was Richmond's 8th victory in a row, which, after a 1-2 start, is the nation's longest winning streak. They come in with a nearly identical offense to Furman--dangerously balanced, able to run or pass the ball at will.

The key to this game is Richmond's defense. Their two weakspots are their secondary, and the middle of the defensive line. This plays completely into Furman's gameplan. I look for Ingle Martin to have a huge passing day (not Chattanooga-game huge, but still very good), and Jerome Felton to bruise his way through the weak middle of that line. If Richmond gets focused on stopping Jerome and the tailbacks early on, the play action pass will be able to go to town. On the defensive side, Furman finally came up huge last week. Let's hope that carries over.
Furman 31, Richmond 17

"Disaster"

2005-11-29T21:42:00.000-08:00

Today was crazy. And I don't mean "Adam Sandler beating up Bob Barker" crazy. I mean "Wait! Bruce Willis is really dead?" crazy.

Next Monday, I have a 10-page research paper for my Paul's Life and Thought class due. And a 10-page research paper for my Economics class due. And a Physics test. Procrastinating is one of my favorite hobbies, but I think that would be a bad career move.

So about a month ago, I jumped on the ball and did half of my Econ paper. Woohoo. Fast forward to today, and that's still all I've gotten done. Mind you, I'm still not behind by Furman-student standards, but I'm at the point in the movie where the good guys know they have three minutes and fifteen seconds to get out of the building before the bomb goes off.

Today I go to the library with a bookbag and a stack of seven books in hand. This is serious business. I sit down in the computer lab for four and a half hours and crank out most of my Paul paper. It gets to be 8:30, and I remember a thing called supper, so I decide to pack it in for the evening. I have the paper saved on the library computer, and just need to dump it over to my First Class storage. Then, suddenly, the network craps out. Completely. So, I have no means at that moment to get my paper off of that cursed library computer.

One mouse click, and it all comes crashing down. I do what I normally do when the internet/network goes down. I restart the computer. Unbeknownst to me, the library has security software on these computers that...for some reason or another....deletes all documents when you restart the computer. Am I the only one that thinks this is a bad idea?

To put it mildly, this was a little distressing. Over four hours of extremely concentrated work went down the drain. I could have murdered each and every one of those little dinky Compaq computers. I'm not a violent person...but Compaq computers run Windows....so they're the enemy.

I wasn't about to fall behind, so after some Chik-fil-a,some comforting from my wonderful brother and sister-in-law, and fifteen minutes of staring at a blank Microsoft Word screen, I jumped back in the game. This time on my own computer...I'll never write another paper in the library.

Three hours later, I have six pages of biblical exegesis that was probably even better than version 1.0 of my paper. I eat a doughnut and write about the whole pitiful situation on my blog.

To think that this is a "disaster"...I live a very spoiled life.

HOMEwork? Apparently means nothing to me....

2005-11-24T21:16:00.000-08:00

--So I came home for this Thanksgiving break with every intention to complete at least one of my three major papers due in the upcoming weeks. Unfortunately, it seems that this atmosphere isn't very conducive to me getting schoolwork done. I've gotten some other work done, including getting a good start on the Seesalt poster for the upcoming year (which is a big deal)....but the schoolwork....it's just not happening. I'm much quicker to spend my evenings with my parents, watching shows that I haven't watched in ages (Survivor, The Apprentice...Donald Trump is still a tool....I mean that in the nicest way possible). Then, of course, there is the phenomenon that is Lost. Another important phenomenon is sleep, and I've been participating in that quite regularly. My family also had back-to-back movie nights, so that took up some time. Tuesday, we saw Walk the Line, which gets my Oscar vote this year. Joaquin Phoenix is easily one of the best actors out there today, and surprisingly enough, the same may go for Ms. Witherspoon. She gained my respect, at least. Then, on Wednesday night was my second viewing of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Thankfully, it's a movie worth the repeat trip...I'm a sucker for the classic good vs. evil epic tales. The best of these stories always have an "oh crap" moment when you realize just how dire the situation is, and all seems hopeless. GOF is the "oh crap" moment of Harry Potter. You can't help but want to know how it all ends.

So that's why I haven't gotten any work done this break. I thought I killed Taylor the Procrastinator, but apparently I couldn't go through with it. I'm not really the killing type, you see.

--I-A Football is lousy. Keep your bowl games, your Floridas and Florida States, your Carolinas and Clemsons. Keep your computers and your 100,000 seat stadiums. Give me real student-athletes. Give me playoffs. Give me I-AA.

In I-AA, we settle it on the field. Saturday, the 16 teams who clawed their way into the field will begin the process of beating the fool out of each other until a champion remains. It doesn't matter if you're a powerhouse or a small school out for respect. Surviving the I-AA playoffs is one of the hardest challenges in sports, second only to the stupidity of the 5-game division series in Major League Baseball (but I'm not bitter). 15 of the 16 best teams in the nation will finish on an incredibly disappointing note....that's right, no consolation of winning the Meineke Bowl for these teams. And one team will emerge as a true champion--not because a computer said so, but because they won an actual championship game.

So let the insanity begin. At 12:30, the Furman Fighting Football Paladins will take on the Nicholls State Colonels at Paladin Stadium. This is Furman's sixth trip to the playoffs in seven years, and fourteenth overall. Nicholls, on the other hand, is making only their fourth trip in school history. Plus, Nicholls has the sympathy thing going for them--they actually had to cancel two games because of the tragedies of Katrina and Rita. So, the nation is pulling against us, but still predicting us to win in a nailbiter.

Last year's quarterfinal loss (14-13) to eventual champion James Madison was downright heartbreaking. It still stings. I'm not prepared to watch another elimination, and I don't think it's going to happen this Saturday. Furman 34, Nicholls 24.

I should note that I have been very, very accurate with my predictions so far this year. That's not really important, but I thought I should throw that in there.

Prediction: Furman 38, Chattanooga 20

2005-11-18T19:38:00.000-08:00

Bring on the playoffs.

An Old Physicist and a Cussing Irishman

2005-11-17T09:17:00.000-08:00

Today, I took it upon myself to read the resolutions of the 2005 South Carolina Baptist Convention. As I made my way through a monotonous stream of "WHEREAS's" and "FURTHERMORE's" and "IN CONCLUSION's," I felt as if I was looking into a vault--the big bank kind that requires a team of 11 (or 12) technologically saavy masterminds to break in to. Inside the vault are shelves and shelves of ideologies, constructed by years and years of both sound biblical exegesis and poor eisegesis, both of which have been forced upon anyone who has entered the vault.

Don't murder. Marriage is sacred. Don't cuss. Evolution is false. Support your country. Homosexuality is wrong. God created the world in 7 days. The Bible is the inerrant Word of God. Don't steal. Go to church. Jesus was a white middle class man who attended a Baptist church.

I'm not going to step out on the ledge and declare which of these I accept and which of these I question (though I'll go ahead and strike the last item off the list). The point is, well, that's not the point.

The point is that these so-called convictions have been built upon the tunnel vision of the common experience of millions of Southern Baptists. They all live in practically the same world, and have taught themselves to adapt a uniform world view. Because it is so uniform and widely accepted, it has been accepted as absolute truth. The phrase "absolute truth" is the lock on the vault. All questions are shot down with it.

Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of respect for many, many Southern Baptist men and women. Many of them have been led by this worldview into a life of servitude and genuine, selfless ministry. And since none of us can know the whole truth of existence and all of its complexities, they are not in the wrong for their vision, just as I am not in the wrong for my warped view of things. Our actions are what defines us. Just ask Batman.

But, consider for a moment, the 5.5 billion or so non-Baptists in this world. The vast majority of these people know a vastly different existence than I do. Just like my experiences shape who I am, their experiences shape them as well. What do some of them have to say?

Dr. Charles Townes, now 92 years old, is a genius. He graduated from Furman University before the age of 20. He continued his studies at various graduate schools, did some research, and invented a little thing called the laser. Years and years later, he is recognized as the possibly the most accomplished physicist ever. He was recently named as one of the 100 most important people of the last millenium--that is the last 1,000 years, for those who need definition or emphasis. I'm not sure why, but even with that impressive resume, when I attended a lecture by Dr. Townes about a month ago, I came in prepared to disagree with him.

Dr. Townes is an evolutionist. He said that he has studied the earth and the stars extensively, and that he can come to no other conclusion that some sort of evolutionary process was involved in our creation.

Then, he threw me for a loop. "My belief in evolution leads me with no choice but to accept the idea of intelligent design." Come again?

He went on to explain two basic principles. One, it is a scientific fact that order cannot randomly be created out of disorder. Yet it happened, and continues to happen. Two, there is no physical, chemical, or biological law that can explain the existence of consciousness. Yet here I am turning conscious thought into ideas, and so on. For all of the scientific sense behind the theory of evolution, it only can work under one condition--someone has to start it.

So I gave Dr. Townes's ideas due consideration, and another one of my crazy theories developed in my head: If you look at God's continuing creation, evolutionary processes seem to fit with his overall nature.

Consider, for instance, how we are born. We start out as the tiniest of cells. Over the course of 9 months, this little speck grows into a complicated, orderly being. Plants start as a little seed, some as small as a pinhead...then they grow into this massive, beautiful living things. God has seemingly made all living things--animals, plants, cells--to follow this principle of patient, gradual growth. What was once disordered and lifeless becomes ordered and full of life. Science can't explain it, but accepts that it happens.

When you consider creation, the idea of "bang and it happened" doesn't seem to fit what we see of God's nature today. We hold steadfastly to some combination of the Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 accounts of creation (which admittedly contradict). The reality is that these are stories created by ancient people with little information to explain creation. Interestingly enough, the processes described metaphorically point to a more gradual means of creation. These accounts are still very important.

Suppose, instead, the universe was gradually created...the galaxies gradually were created, earth was gradually created, life was gradually created, and consciousness was somehow thrown in somewhere in there...could God have done it this way? I'd say so. The Bible itself shows that God has this thing with drawing things out longer than we think He will, and doing it all very mysteriously, as well.

The truth of the matter is, God could have (and did) create this place any way he wanted to. Our own beliefs on how that happened are largely dependent on the worldview that we have created (or has been created for us). This goes for the ancient Hebrews, as well. Try as we may, God cannot be put into a human vault. We need to continue to strive and find truth.

This has gone on a lot longer than I thought it would, so I'm going to slap on a "To Be Continued."

To Be Continued.

I like Saturday.

2005-11-12T20:33:00.000-08:00

Congrats to the Paladins, who were able to beat Wofford 34-21, and did so, seemingly, without even trying. UMass and Southern Illinois helped us out by losing today, so a top 4 seed in the playoffs is suddently looking like a possibility. Should be a very interesting couple of weeks.

Favorite quote of the day: During the Auburn/Georgia game, an ESPN commentator was impressed with his math: "Just as I suspicioned, they'll run the clock down to 8 seconds." I'm sorry, the ability to count does not give you permission to make up words.

Now I shall return to my Paul book. I think it's lonely.

2005-11-10T20:49:00.000-08:00

Crap. I just knocked the penny over.

Oh well, it was a good run.

(Insert Witty Title Here)

2005-11-10T20:05:00.000-08:00

My brain's fried. So it's time for some randomness.

--According to movies.com, George Lucas was rather unimpressed when he visited the intricate jungle sets of Peter Jackson's upcoming blockbuster movie, King Kong. "Of course, we could do all of this digitally," he sniffed. Wow. George Lucas just doesn't get it.

--Speaking of movies and not getting it, another Terminator trilogy is in the early stages of development. Conveniently, the Governator himself will probably be looking for a job soon.

--I've had a penny balancing upright on my desk for about six hours now. I'll keep you posted.

--Pat Robertson told a small Pennsylvania town that just voted out 8 pro-intelligent design school board members to not be surprised if disaster strikes them soon. He also added that they shouldn't turn to God if this happens; "You voted God out of your city," he said. Mr. Robertson, you get added to my list of people who just don't get it.

--At FCA tonight, my classmate/Furman offensive lineman Scott Shuford beat out Joel "Big Game" Bell and four other football players in a pie eating contest. During the contest, one couldn't help but wonder why Reggie Goolsby didn't even try to eat his pie....but then, after Scott was declared the victor, Reggie was kind enough to "feed" Scott his pie.

--Also at FCA, quarterback Ingle Martin gave his testimony. I admit that I have been tough on him at times this year (and other students have been mercilessly tough on him). Today I pledge to stop speaking poorly of any of these guys...even if they make some bizarre option pitches. Ingle is an open, humble, standup guy, and a young Christian, just trying to find his way, just like the rest of us. One of the things he said he liked about Furman was the fact that the coaching staff knew that there were more important things in life than football. That goes for angry fans, as well.

--Speaking of Furman football, they take on the Wofford puppies this weekend. I'll make it short and sweet. Furman, playing at home, fighting for the playoffs, angry after the Georgia Southern game, playing a young, struggling (albeit hard-fighting) Wofford team= Furman 34, Wofford 13.

Midnight Musings

2005-11-09T20:58:00.000-08:00

Today, Tony, my GAIHN supervisor, asked me two very important questions.

Why are these people homeless? And what causes us to give a rip?

Or, put differently, how can I reconcile this situation with my view of a loving God?

The unfortuanate fact is that many people would answer question one by simply figuring that homeless people are homeless because they weren't "______ enough." They were simply too inadequate to survive normal society. They wouldn't say this outloud, likely, but inside, many have decided that this is the case.

Question 2: Well, many people don't give a rip, for starters. But what about the people who truly and unglamourously care for these people? Kindness is one thing...but is there more?

I love the concept of "tension." Thinking about it makes me feel so cool and philisophical. All of that is a bunch of bullhonkey (yes, bullhonkey...too much time at homestarrunner.com...), but there is still plenty to be said about this tension business.

The world is, in chemistry terms (which I avoid when possible), an explosive reaction waiting to happen. Two elements--the human, the imperfect, the fear; and then the divine, the perfect, the mystery--are thrown together and stirred up like some sort of brew. And you can see the tension between these elements all around. Despair and hope duke it out in one ring, while good will and harm beat the fool out of each other in the main event. Some point to this and scream, "Ha! See? It's all random." But a crazy person like me--I look at this explosion, and I see God.

No one has a diffficult time admitting that this world is not perfect. After all, it is populated by mankind. That's just asking for trouble. But then throw God into the mix--the trials of this world are suddenly mixed with a very active and loving power. The end result is not something perfect...God has not set out to make this place perfect. Instead he is the wrinkle that triggers the reaction. Now, all of our imperfection, selfishness, and hostility are thrown into the same equation as hope, love, peace, and unity. It's a very bizarre coexistence.

This scenario allows for confusingly similar amounts of mercy and suffering. The suffering is our fault. Our selfishness makes people homeless. So where does the mercy come from? Does God come down in human form and feed the hungry? Well, yes.

But part of the idea was to establish a precedent, as well as a relationship with us so that we all could BE the merciful. Why wait for hospitality when it is yours to give?

It is in this hospitality that the reaction is stabilized. But as long as we ignore this mindset, we will forever be stuck in a world of tension.

Week 10: Furman at Georgia Southern

2005-11-05T22:11:00.000-08:00

Oy. Now that one stung.

Georgia Southern paid us back for last year's thriller with a 27-24 victory over the Fighting Football Paladins in front of 20,000 at Paulson Stadium Saturday.

It essentially was a reverse of last year...different stadium, different outcome, but the same type of game.

When we punted it away with 8ish minutes left with a 24-20 lead, I had this sinking feeling that the Eagles would use most of the clock to take the game-winning score. And of course, they did exactly that. Still, with one minute left, the Paladins stormed down the field for what appeared to be yet another "how the crap did they do that" comeback win.

But this time it was not to be. Ingle Martin's pass to a wide open Patrick Sprague in the endzone with 35 seconds left was about 10 feet short, and directly to a GSU defender. I'm not sure if he just underthrew it or it slipped or Sprague ran the wrong route, or whatever. I just know that Sprague was wide open, and that pass was completely off.

So it was a short-lived stay at #1 for the Paladins (just like the other 6 teams who have been in the #1 spot at some point this year). The Southern Conference title is nearly a complete impossibility. So the mission is very simple. Beat Wofford and Chattanooga, get into the playoffs. Hopefully a 9-2 record will be enough to get a couple of home games (it traditionally has been).

And until the playoffs, no more football reflection (unless something really exciting happens). I'm going back to thinking about life and other non-sports related things. Maybe. We'll see.

The Greatest Game Ever Played

2005-10-29T21:11:00.000-07:00

On November 6th, 2004, I turned 19 years old. But that that fact was a distant afterthought on that day.

It was Homecoming week, so any attention to my studies were impossible. The main time-consumer was 12+ hours of float building, which I am now convinced is an excuse to keep from doing something actually studious. There was also preparing for the Homecoming dance and the carnival and whatnot...all good things. But in reality, these were merely distractions to keep me occupied until Saturday afternoon.

The Furman/Georgia Southern rivalry is so intense because it actually matters. It's not like the pitiful Carolina/Clemson rivalry, where more often than not, both teams are struggling for a 6-5 record to get to the Plug-It-In Bowl in Boise, Idaho. No, when the Paladins and Eagles butt heads, the chips are on the table. Before they were ever conference rivals, these two teams squared off in the National Championship twice (splitting the two games). Since then, they've been beating the fool out of each other for years, fighting over the Southern Conference.

At 6-2, the #3 Paladins were heavy underdogs to the #2 Eagles. Why? Because up to that point, Georgia Southern had beaten the Southern Conference like they were a bunch of AAA High School teams. Wofford, Appalachian State, The Citadel...all of these teams fell--by an average of 54-10. Other than 1-A Georgia, no one could touch Georgia Southern. The experts unanimously agreed: the Eagles were the class of the nation.

An overflow crowd of 17,000+ filled Paladin stadium on that perfect fall afternoon. Even the lesser-informed fan could tell by the atmosphere; this one was for all the marbles.

The first half was practically a draw, as both teams played well enough and made enough mistakes to keep it close. Georgia Southern led 12-10 at the half. The stage was set for the most intense half of football I have seen in my nineteen years.

To open the second half, Furman commandingly marched down the field to score, and added a two point conversion to take an 18-12 lead. From that moment on, the noise level never dipped below deafening. (Picture: Furman tailback Daric Carter runs in for the score...notice Furman president David Shi going beserk in the background.)

However, the Eagles then flexed their offensive and defensive muscle, and we found ourselves down, early in the fourth quarter, 22-21.

Midway through the quarter, the Eagles were ready to put it away. Facing fourth and goal from the two, they elected to go for the jugular. The result: an amazing and improbable goalline stand. (Picture: Our response.)

With their backs against the wall, Ingle Martin and the Furman offense engineered a drive that will live on as long as Furman football exists. Mixing mid-range passes, speedy outside running, and a healthy dose of FB Jerome Felton up the middle, the Paladins slowly worked their way down the field. Then, with less than a minute remaining, Felton sprung through a hole, and dashed into the endzone.

I have never been apart of pandimonium such as what occurred immediately after. The chaos would increase even more, as on the 2-point try, Issac West took the end-around and flew toward the goalline:

Moments later, Cam Newton knocked down Chaz William's last-ditch effort pass to the endzone, and the field flooded with an ecstatic mass of purple and white. Tears were shed, friends were joyfully tackled (hugging was not enough), and some just finally collapsed on the ground in exhaustion. The thousands decked in navy blue on the opposing side just stood in silence. The invincible Eagles fell, and the Conference was there for Furman's taking, which, of course, they did.

This Saturday, the story continues. Since that fateful November day, Furman has made a habit of playing these heart-attack inducing games. However, they've still gotten the job done, and are in position to take the conference again. However, Paulson Stadium, an unbelievably hostile crowd, and the Georgia Southern Eagles stand in their way (as they often do). The smack talk has been going on for weeks. For the next seven days, fans on both sides will check their calenders, hoping to find out that it's actually already Saturday.

It's time once again for Furman to rise to the occassion. And I predict that they will in a huge way, as the next chapter of this rivalry is written: Furman 35, Georgia Southern 24.

Homecoming: Furman vs. Elon

2005-10-22T09:48:00.000-07:00

I didn't make a pick last week, and that almost came back to bite us, but thankfully a talented young man by the name of Renaldo Gray stepped in for an injured Ingle Martin, and rallied Furman to a 39-31 3OT victory at the The Citadel last week.

This week, it's Homecoming for the #2 Furman Paladins against Southern Conference bottom dweller Elon. Elon may lack talent and any semblance of an offensive gameplan, but their defense can put up a fight, as we saw in our 10-0 victory against them last year.

But it's Homecoming, and our team is tired of nailbiters, so I see them pulling away early. Furman 38, Elon 13.

The Glory of Sport

2005-10-17T21:02:00.000-07:00

My father has always said before big games that "if we lose, sports are the most meaningless thing in the world. It's just a silly game, and it doesn't really matter. But if we win, it continues on as something massively important, at least until the next game."

As a whole, we give sports far more attention than is healthy. "It's a silly game" should probably be the prevailing attitude. Naturally, it only takes a few seconds before that attitude gets chunked in light of one of those great "moments."

As I was working on an Economics paper earlier tonight, I decided to turn the TV on to Fox to check how game 5 of the National League Championship was going. I've gotten over my bitterness at the Houston Astros for beating us (the Braves) in the Division Series, and planned on cheering them on, as, with a 3 games to 1 lead, they prepared to win the series. It was nothing against the St. Louis Cardinals, and I have no great devotion to the Astros, but there is something stirring to see a bunch of guys and 45,000 fans finally slip over the edge into that success they've been dreaming about (in this case, the World Series).

When I turned the game on, the bottom of the eigth inning was closing out, and Minuit Maid Park was rocking. The Astros had just taken a 4-2 lead an inning earlier, and they were three outs from the World Series. This is a franchise that had never tasted that part of October. The Fox production team cut to all of the appropriate shots: the great Nolan Ryan in the press box, the retired numbers lining the wall above the left field stands, the tearful eyes of veteran shortstop Craig Biggio in the dugout. With Brad Lidge, the National League's best closer, heading to the mound to finish things out against an unusually stagnant Cardinal offense, it was not a matter of how to get three outs, but how long it would be before the champagne-filled celebration in the clubhouse.

With every strike in the top of the 9th, Minute Maid Park somehow continued to climb in decibel level. Lidge struck out the first two batters, and made them look like fools with some nasty sliders in the process. At this point, Fox decided to go ahead and remind fans that the World Series began Saturday on Fox at 8:00. The graphic showed Houston/St. Louis @ Chicago..."Why don't you just go ahead and say 'Houston @ Chicago'?" I asked.

No, the TV did not answer, for those who are concerned.

So, with two outs, little David Eckstein walked to the plate. Somehow, he overcame the nauseatingly loud crowd to make enough contact to bounce a single through a hole between Third and Short. Then, free-swinging Jim Edmonds decided to keep the bat on his shoulder, and took a walk. At this point, forget wishy washy "Astros finally make the Series" junk. I want drama.

So this Albert Pujols character... he's really easy to pull for. He's one of the good guys. He does a lot of work in the community, especially with Autistic children. Oh, and he's also the greatest hitter alive. And to my delight, it was mighty Albert's turn at bat.

I'm not sure if there is such thing as "Negative Noise"...something even lower than silence. If it exists, then Minute Maid Park came awfully close to it. If Pujol's game-altering, series-crushing blow wasn't enough...that ball went far. FAR. If the ballgame had been played in an open parking lot, the ball would have traveled half a mile (including the roll, obviously).

Jason Isringhausen closed out the bottom of the ninth to preserve the Cardinal's 5-4 win, and the series is heading back to St. Louis. That's probably not how Houston drew up their plans to get to the World Series.

All of this because some guy took a stick and hit a baseball. What a silly game.

Wonderful, isn't it?

Pirates of the Kazaa

2005-10-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

This country that we live in is quite humorous. Our back-and-forth self contradiction mirrors the string of lies and inconsistencies that make up a quality episode of Seinfeld. From the outside, it's amusing to see people chasing their tails, and we can rest assured that it will all come crashing down by the end of the episode. But while we laugh, we have to accept that we are insiders, also playing the game.

An Economics class discussion today tipped me over the edge: from laughing to concerned and nearly outraged. Music sales, a popular and controversial topic for pop-culture consumerist college students, was the issue. And naturally, the conversation made its way toward the concept of file sharing and music ripping.

So Dr. Peterson opened the can of worms with the obvious question: "Is music sharing, since you aren't paying for the good, the same thing as say, stealing a sweater from a mall?"

I spent the next 20 minutes or so shaking my head in disbelief. EVERYONE was fighting, scratching, pleading, whatever they had to do--to convince themselves and others that taking this music was not stealing, and even more ridiculous, not detrimental to anyone in any way.

"We HAVE to have our music. If we don't have the money, and the files are accessible, why shouldn't we use them?"

I work in video and graphic design. I would absolutely love to have programs such as Adobe After Effects, some Director's Cuts Filters, the latest version of the Adobe Creative Suite and the Apple Production Suite, and so on. In fact, if I had them, my productivity in this area would increase threefold. The problem is, each of these programs go for somewhere in between 800 and 1300 dollars. Ah, but there is a way around this. It's actually quite simple. You can download a 30 day trial of each of these, and it includes the entire program. The only thing keeping it from being legit is a serial number, which you can either purchase from the maker (again, 800 to 1300 dollars), or you can find a website that has a catalog of real serial numbers that people are sharing online--for free. I have a couple of these trial programs on my computer right now. At this moment, I could find a serial number, and get thousands of dollars worth of completely functional professional software for free.

Would anyone like to argue that this is not stealing? Or better yet, argue how it is different from sharing music?

"Artists are rich. They lead luxurious lifestyles. I don't think it's going to hurt them if I download one of their songs."

Whatever you say, Robin Hood. The moral implications of "stealing from the rich" aside, what about the thousands of workers in the music industry who aren't getting six figures: the CD pressers, the secretaries, the license workers, and many, many more? Are they not impacted by the fact that suddenly, music companies are taking in far less money? People are being laid off, and the direct cause of this is music piracy. It's gotten so bad that, had Coldplay's CD not done well this summer, the entire BMI label would have gone under.

Let's say that one person bought the Coldplay CD. Then say that they put it up on a file sharing program. Then 10 million people, rather than buying the product, "shared." Suddenly, BMI has a revenue total of 15 dollars for this CD. Suddenly, hundreds upon hundreds of people are out of a job. But this is justifiable by our music sharing thinking.

So here we are chasing our tails. We look down upon looting in New Orleans. We look down upon scandal in big businesses. We look down upon things as little as stealing a sweater. Then we, collectively, steal a few billion dollars straight from our computers.

But, we have to have our stuff, right?

Ecstasy And Apathy

2005-10-10T09:54:00.000-07:00

Now that's what I call getting a monkey off your back.

As I predicted, the greatest football game in all of college football on Saturday took place at Paladin Stadium. I also predicted that the score would be 38-35 in favor of Furman, which was very close to the actual score of 34-31. What I did not predict was the insanity that would lead up to that final score. But this is Furman and Appalachian State, afterall--they don't have the capacity to have a sane competition.

At the end of the third quarter, the Paladins looked to put the game away, taking the biggest lead at 26-17. App was hardly stopping our offense, and the hyped App offense was making a living off of moving the ball, then choking on third down.

So, naturally, everything then went to crap. With a little less than 5:00 to play, the Mountaineers took a 31-26 lead, and had visions of a Southern Conference championship dancing in their heads.

For the third time this year, trailing on our final possession, it was Ingle Time. Four and a half minutes and several third and fourth down conversions later, Ingle found Patrick Sprague in the back of the endzone.

This was all to familiar. 32-31...you have to go for two, right? "The Play We Don't Speak Of" stared us in the face once again. It was all too eerie.

According to the Greenville News, Jerome Felton walked to Coach Lamb and simply said, "Give me the ball. They won't stop me." And Jerome Felton is a man of his word.

So the board was set. 34-31 with 31 seconds left. I have never heard Paladin Stadium so loud. It was deafening.

App reminded us who we were playing by nearly breaking the ensuing kickoff for a TD, but we finally managed to hit the guy out of bounds about 46 yards downfield. 15 or 20 yards more, and they're ready to kick the game into overtime. And of course, they got 15 or 20 more yards. 3 seconds left, and the kicking team walks onto the field.

If that doesn't explain the outcome, let's just say that it involved William Freeman's well-placed hand, and some wonderful ensuing pandemonium. I'm in the picture, making my way over the wall (completely ignoring my knee injury from Friday Afternoon Football), but it's hard to tell.

In other news, the Atlanta Braves blew a 6-1 8th inning lead, and found themselves in a record-breaking 18 inning standoff that many are calling one of the greatest playoff games of all time. And lost. So the Braves are out yet again. I'm a very dedicated Braves fan, but I have to admit that by about the 14th inning, I didn't care anymore. I apologize for such apathy, but it happens.

So that should be enough sports-related excitement for a while. I now plan on getting back to productive thought.

A Sport-tastic Weekend

2005-10-07T12:35:00.000-07:00

Because I invest far too many emotions into sports, this could be a really good or a really bad weekend.

Braves playoff baseball? Check.
Renewal of epic rivalry between Furman and App. State? Check.
Friday Afternoon football? You better believe it.

Our beloved Atlanta Braves started out the 2005 postseason like they normally do--with an ugly 10-5 loss. 9 out of 10 ESPN "experts" were already predicting the Astros to take the Braves to the woodshed, and after the Game 1 loss, they smugly declared their genius (or in other words, "I told you so").

The chances didn't look all that great for Game 2 last night. No momentum whatsoever. A comfortably confident Astros team. And most importantly, 7-time Cy Young Award winner Roger Clemens on the mound, ready to shut us down.

But then, stepping out of the first base dugout, came a man. A man with nerves of steel. A man with more intensity than any five baseball players combined. A man with more playoff wins than anyone in history. A man I have admired since I was five years old. A man named John Smoltz.

Joining John Smoltz were a bunch of kids, with names like Jeff Francouer, Brian McCann, and Ryan Langerhans...rookies who had no part of the negativity of the Braves' 13 years of playoff woes, and who were green enough to not be afraid of the legendary Roger Clemens.

For at least one night, all was finally well at Turner Field. John Smoltz was dominating to a degree that gives me chills, and reminds me of my younger years when I thought he the coolest guy ever. 21 year-old Brian McCann's 3-run homer off of Clemens in the second nearly brought the stadium down, and has been replayed on ESPN at least 132 times since. The 7-1 win quickly turned "Astros in a sweep" into "Well, now we've got a ballgame." And to think that I would have gone to this game if not for school.

As the Braves head to Houston tomorrow, the odds are still against us. I don't know, though. There was something in the team last night that was different. I think it had something to do with the vitality of a bunch of 21 year-old kids and a 37 year-old pitcher crazy enough to think he can--and will--still dominate. We shall see.

As if that weren't enough...

The marquee matchup of 1-AA football--nay, all of football--will take place on Saturday at 3:30 at Paladin Stadium as the #6 Furman Paladins take on the #16 Appalachian State Mountaineers. Why is this so important, you ask? Well, the obvious reason is that this game could very well decide the Southern Conference. The winner will have a fast track to the title.

But beyond that, the reason is very simple.

I hate App. State. We all do. Not any people at App. State, but just App. State as an entity. Every time we've played them over the last three years, we have entered the game with a superior team; we lost all three games by a combined total of 6 points. In 2002, there was the "Play We Do Not Speak Of" game, which was all over ESPN that evening...this was not one of those times you wanted to be no ESPN. In 2003 was Choke-fest, a game that should have resulted in a 27-13 victory, but instead ended in a 13-10 loss. And finally, last year we allowed App QB Richie Williams to set multiple major NCAA pass records, but still somehow played well enough to win...then lost at the last second, 30-29.

In a word, it's disgusting. But tomorrow, everything resets. The pressure is on. It's The Sports Network's and I-AA.org's game of the week, so, a barnburner is expected. An overflow crowd of 16,000+ is expected (though the neverending rain could change that). It will be loud, it will be dirty, and many people will probably be hurt. But when all is said and done, I expect the streak to be snapped. Prediction: Furman 38, App. State 35.

And finally:

This afternoon's weekly FAF (Friday Afternoon Football) should be a special one. For one, it has been pouring rain for over two days now, and it doesn't look like it's going to let up. But, the game will go on. And secondly, FAF Hall of Famer, my brother, Chris Cox, is returning from his humble Atlanta abode to take the field. If we're on the same team, our team will win--it is as simple as that. If we're on different teams, someone will probably be hurt. I'm not sure why I'm dwelling on people getting hurt in this post, but I think it has something to do with mud, rain, running, and tackling.

I do not anticipate that Jon Dees or Andrew Floyd will let us be on the same team, so, it's go time. My prediction: 77-63.

I'm not sure who will win, but it will be 77-63.

Good morning, and if I don't see you later, good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight.

Post FAF Update:
Yeah, so I was right about the whole people getting hurt thing. I suffered some pretty impressive injuries to my right calf, my left knee, my neck, and, the topper, my head. I really should be careful of what I post on this blog.... But, fun was had by all.

Is This What You Call Beauty?

2005-10-02T23:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know that the line is "Is this what you call freedom/Is this what you call pain," but the template worked for what was on my mind.

Today, Tony had Melissa (my fellow GAIHN intern) and I participate in the Walk for the Homeless in downtown Greenville. The 5-mile walk, aside from being more tiring than I expected, was a bizarre mix of two very different sides of the city of Greenville. Part of it took us right through the heart of downtown Greenville. For those of you who haven't had the privelage to visit the area, it is quite a looker: restaurants, galleries, parks, upscale housing...enough to make most city councils green with envy. Then there is Greenville's West Side.

For about fifty years, the west side of Greenville has carried the stigma of being the "bad" part of town. It is "bad" because it is poor. These houses won't show up on Trading Spaces anytime soon. The residents won't be walking down the runway anytime soon.

These are our lepers.

We have such a perverted idea of beauty. For us, beauty is just about anything that pleases our own selfishness. Beauty is a pretty face. Beauty is success. Beauty is 6 figures. Beauty is a degree. Beauty is a squeaky clean image. Beauty is everything that lifts the fortunate on the celebratory shoulders of the world, and everything that feasts upon those that are already oppressed--oppressed by us, oppressed by me.

I love how Jesus has the market cornered on paradoxes. It's just so wonderfully nonsensical.

If Jesus asked our collective culture to show him beauty, we would line up models, actors, and millionaires. We would show him our brand new, state of the art, $20 million church building. We would show him a chick flick, read him an artsy poem, and then have him watch the Season 1 DVD of the OC.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," he would say.

What he would show us, in return, I am not sure. Perhaps he would show us a single mom of 3 who just beat all odds to get her G.E.D. so she can provide food, on top of the love she already supplied. Perhaps he would show us a dying man who gives of himself, though there is nothing left that can be given to him. He would show us the humble, the gentle, the kind, the selfless, and the meek. Christ's time on earth proved that he finds beauty within all of us...but he's looking for it in a completely different place than we are. There's nothing grandiose about it. Such soft-spoken beauty and love makes no sense in our blaring loud lives...which is why it completely makes sense. Christ seems so nonsensical because we all lead lives that are painfully contrary to what he taught and what he lived--therefore, we can't understand.

My prayer for myself is that I would look for the true beauty that God has put inside each and every person...and out of service, show them the beauty that is inside of me.

Hilarious

2005-10-02T08:40:00.000-07:00

From my brother's blog:

A Tangled Webb

2005-10-01T20:57:00.000-07:00

First off, let me say that my prediction of 45-20 over Gardner Webb could have been really close--if not for our second team defense. At 45-24 late in the game, I felt pretty secure...then our reserve defense went out there and kind of just stood around. So it ends up being 48-31 instead.

The good: Offense is still nearly unstoppable--600+ yards, and they made it look easy. After a sloppy first quarter, QB Ingle Martin hit his stride, and finally found a deep threat in Grant Brigham (who finished with a ridiculous 189 yards receiving on 5 catches). The first team defense tightened up and held a powerful offense to 10 points.

The bad: The second team defense.....um, yeah. I'm all for giving them experience, but they turned a blowout into a shootout. So, our first team defense now knows how to stop the pass...the second team didn't get the memo. Also--I don't like to point fingers at the refs normally, but...good gosh. Maybe it was the heat or something. And finally, as good as the offense was, we had three redzone opportunities that we failed to get any points out of. And yes, I demand perfection.

Next week (cue dramatic music): Appalachian State. More on that when we get closer to gametime.

Pray for my roommate, TJ Cofield. He is preaching tomorrow morning at Cathedral Community Church in Mauldin at 8:30.

Prediction Time-The Sequel

2005-09-30T14:34:00.000-07:00

This week, the Paladins take on the Gardner-Webb Bulldogs. Statistically, the Bulldogs have the best offense in the nation.

I don't care. Furman 45, G-W 20. Put your money on it. All of it. Empty out your account, and find the nearest bookie. And then buy me an XBox 360.

Overdramatic

2005-09-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt like the events in the coming months could mark a significant turning point in your life?

That's my overdramatic thought of the day. Now, on to business.

I started work "for real" at GAIHN today. For those who don't know I am interning at GAIHN (Greenville Area Interfaith Hospitality Network) this year, under the supervision of my uncle's brother, Tony McDade. It's been a heck of an opportunity to shatter my comfort zone, learn firsthand what Christ actually meant when talking about all of that hospitality stuff, and get a glimpse of the world of the poor that society tries its best to cover up.

Today was pretty standard work (if you call anything that happens at GAIHN standard). T and I (his name is really Tavarius, but he's T, and I'm Mr. T-Y) sorted about 500 stuffed animals. It was also a good chance to to talk to him about some struggles he's been having at school....he's a great little kid, but he has his buttons that can be pushed, just like all of us. Anyways, the funny thing about the stuffed animals is that a local elementary school collected for Katrina victims that were going to stay at the Palmetto Expo Center.....and yeah, about 13 kids actually ended up staying there. So, there were just a few left over. So T and I sorted them and bagged them up to be taken to other shelters. Tony had me take 3 bags (which filled my entire car) over to Palmetto Place (a home for abused kids). The worker that I talked to there...she just seemed weary to the point of collapsing. I have the utmost admiration for people who are able to love with that kind of sacrifice. Fortunately, she started feeling much better when she saw the quantity and quality of stuffed animals I brought, explaining that this would be an enormous help at Christmas time. So, to whatever elementary school kids who donated those--thanks.

I finished Blue Like Jazz today. I can confidently say that it is as good as advertised. Donald Miller's stories are refreshing to read. The guy is unbelievably honest, opening himself up along with his numerous insecurities. Through this honesty (which may be offensive to those not used to it), it is easy to see the strength and motivation of this man's faith.

And the book is also freaking hilarious. That helps.

Today's Songs of the Day: "Waiting For the World to Fall" (Jars of Clay) and "The Blues" (Switchfoot)

It's been way too long since I've gotten this excited about a Jars of Clay song, so kudos to you guys.

And to close, from the great thinker that I just mentioned, Donald Miller:

"I felt as if believing in God was no more rational than having an imaginary friend. They have names for people who have imaginary friends, you know. They keep them in special hospitals. Maybe my faith in God was a form of insanity. Maybe I was losing my marbles. I start out believing in Christ, and the next thing you know I am having tea with the Easter Bunny or waltzing with my toaster, shouting, 'The Redcoats are coming!'"

"I know our culture will sometimes understand a love for Jesus as weakness. There is this lie floating around that says I am supposed to be able to do life alone, without any help, without stopping to worship something bigger than myself. But I actually believe there is something bigger than me, and I need for there to be something bigger than me. I need someone to put awe inside me; I need to come second to someone who has everything figured out."

Katartidzo Thoughts

2005-09-25T21:08:00.000-07:00

-Community and relationships may be God's best teaching tool.
-Part of the beauty of the kingdom of God is being able to have different opinions, all while loving each other the same. It's so sad to realize that there are parts in the kingdom that simply don't believe this.
-If someone were to strip naked in the spirit of worship, what would you do?
-If I'm barefoot in an open grassy field, I am as fast as the wind. Not a very strong wind, but a nice breeze, at least.
-I pray that God will defeat my unending human desire to judge others.
-Is there a point where you've played guitar for so long in one night that the strings will go straight through your fingers? If so, I flirted with that line for the second year in a row.
-I'm still not quite sure what freedom is. I don't anticipate figuring it out anytime soon.
-How do you defeat a 15-foot wall? 5 bandanas and enough craziness to think it will work.
-After years of hands-on research, a thin insulation sleeping bag trumps a thick insulation sleeping bag in every area. Unless, of course, it's like 20 degrees outside.
-My pride and faulty conception that I can handle things are keeping me from an intimate, submissive, action-filled relationship with God.

So now I've got to go back to school. And I bet they won't let us play water games.

The End of the Katartidzo Curse

2005-09-25T18:19:00.000-07:00

Sports fans find comfort in bad situations by making up curses. It gives some kind of pathetic explanation for why things happen, and takes the focus off of the real truth, which is the team simply didn't quite cut it. Boston Red Sox fans cried about the Curse of the Bambino for nearly a century, and many of them would have you believe that they personally tried to stop the Ruth trade. The Chicago Cubs, feeling left out, came up with the Curse of the Goat, one of the most ridiculous curse claims in sports. I'm not sure which is more pathetic: the Cubs' performance over the last century, or their belief in a supernatural barnyard animal.

So those of us in Furman's BCM needed an explanation for why our beloved Paladin football team was unable to win--in games that they were predicted to win, no less-- during our fall retreat, Katartidzo. Therefore, it took about 3 seconds of negative thought after last year's loss to give birth to the "Katartidzo Curse."

Lame, you say? Absolutely. But it at least shifted the blame to something that couldn't be controlled. And that was good enough for us.

So, as we embarked on this year's Katartidzo, the Furman Fighting Football Paladins faced their biggest Katartidzo Saturday foe yet: #17 Hofstra University.

The game had the earmarks of a heartbreaking loss. Our last meeting with Hofstra in the 2000 playoffs ended in a disgusting overtime loss. On top of that, Hofstra entered the game with one of the nation's most elite passing attacks...and so far, we've had one of the nation's most pourous passing defenses. All the same, the Paladins were favored to barely win (41-38 according to 1-AA guru Matt Dougherty). But I wasn't convinced.

On Saturday afternoon, I found the one spot at mountainous Camp McCall that had at least a little bit of cell phone reception, and made about 5 calls to my father for updates. Finally, after recreation/relays, I made the fateful final score call.

"It was crazy, Taylor. Double overtime. Hofstra 41, Furman (static)-4."

So there is a curse, afterall, I thought. And now, it had reached a completely new level. 41-34 in Double Overtime? That's just overkill. I reported the news to a few passersby, and the gloom spread.

After a signature Camp McCall lukewarm shower, I was making my way down to the dining hall, already talking myself out of being mad when I ran into a group my friends, in the midst of some sort of celebration. Perhaps it was the odd excitment that comes from getting disgustingly dirty at Katartidzo. Perhaps it was a self-congratulatory gesture for succesffuly cleaning up approximately one thousand popped water balloons off of the rec field. Or maybe they were just happy to be alive and in the mountains...there is something about that mountain air.

The reason for their celebration taught me a few lessons. It taught me the fun in irony. It taught me that hope can extend beyond that moment when you've given it up. But most importantly...it taught me that if you have bad cell phone reception, make sure you have the other person repeat themself when they give a score.

Final score: Furman 44, Hofstra 41.

More Graphic Fun

2005-09-23T05:59:00.000-07:00

Except this time it's productive. After about 3 weeks of hard work, here is this year's Chillipepper poster.

Oh, and come to Chillipepper.

(Back)

(Front)

Fun With Photoshop

2005-09-22T09:32:00.000-07:00

I don't have a lot of free time. But sometimes... the things I do with it......it's a little sad.

Week 3: Furman vs. Samford: "I'll take It"

2005-09-17T21:09:00.000-07:00

When you're a little uneasy about a 45-23 win, that means you're pretty spoiled. But after last week's disaster, we were all looking for a flawless blowout to put our minds at ease. The blowout part was there, but it was hardly flawless. The defense STILL seems to have a huge problem with short and intermediate passes (36 for 51? Sheesh!). Please, guys--stop playing that ridiculously soft zone. Ingle Martin had nowhere to go but up, and he was alright...but I think someone stole the guy's mojo. He's gone from pro prospect to mediocre quarterback way too quickly. He'll find his head, though, and I think we'll see some big games from him soon enough.

Thankfully, to pick up the slack, we have the most beastly rushing attack since the reign of Louis Ivory. Three guys (Carter, Felton, Gibson) rushed for over 100 yards and made it look pretty effortless. Hopefully they can carry things until everyone else gets on the same page.

Elsewhere, in a battle of "lesser of two evils," Wofford took down Georgia Southern to seal Georgia Southern's fate as terribly mediocre. Unless they turn things around fast, they'll be watching at home when December comes around.

Next Week: #23 Hofstra. Could be scary. Taking Hofstra's pass offense and the Katartidzo curse into account, I'm going to play it safe and predict Hofstra 38, Furman 34. I better be wrong.

Prediction

2005-09-17T13:29:00.000-07:00

Furman 38, Samford 13. You heard it here. Take it to the bank. Maybe take out a mortgage. Whatever you have to do.

The Painful End of the Doughnut

2005-09-15T13:09:00.000-07:00

Last year, I became apart of a sacred tradition. After TNT (Tuesday Night Together) each week, some BCMers would pack everything up and head to Krispy Kreme. This time of fellowship, at times, kept me afloat during the harder days of school. This years BCMers were even more enthusiastic about continuing and growing this tradition, so, sure enough, I made the drive out to Krispy Kreme on Tuesday night, with three freshmen that I barely knew tagging along.

It was horrifying. The open sign wasn't on. There was a worker motioning through the window, telling us to move on. The sign didn't lie. Krispy Kreme now closes at 11. One of the greatest American institutions had failed us.

TJ Cofield, Jon Dees, and I spent a good half hour late that night trying to figure out what to do next, what we can do to salvage this vitally important fellowship. I'll keep you posted.

In other news, Switchfoot's Nothing Is Sound could challenge Coldplay's X&Y for album of the year. It may take the jury months to decide.

Furman at Western Carolina: "It's just a game"

2005-09-10T23:23:00.000-07:00

So, the world of 1-AA football has been turned completely upside down.

#1 James Madison gets shocked by Coastal Carolina, 31-27.
#2 Furman gets drubbed by Western Carolina, 41-21.
#5 Georgia Southern falls short against McNeese State, 23-20.

The four most powerful teams in 1-AA--James Madison, Furman, Montana, and Georgia Southern--fell from their lofty perches today. In all, 11 of the top 25 teams in the nation lost today. Craziness.

James Madison now has one strike against them, and they have yet to start their insanely tough Atlantic 10 season. At this point, after only one loss, they'll be lucky to make the playoffs.

Furman, nearly unanimous favorites to win the Southern Conference, now find themselves with an 0-1 conference record. The Paladin faithful are bamboozled at the night's events, and after two weeks of unprecedented sloppy play, the hype and expectations are shot.

Georgia Southern fans are Georgia Southern fans. They're just glad that Furman lost by more than they did.

Montana lost to 1-A Oregon, but by a lot more than most had anticipated. Still, they're in the best shape of the Big Four.

It's crazy times like this, when this game proves to be so crazy, that I'm reminded that it's just that: a game. To all the Furman faithful out there: take comfort. Life could be a lot worse.

Relatively Speaking

2005-09-09T19:54:00.000-07:00

Two nights ago, the Furman class of 2009 participated in something that can only be described as ridiculous. It started out at midnight, when about 500 of these Freshmen converge on the flagpole circle and start yelling. This yelling went on for about 45 minutes, and intensified when one brave soul tried to scale the flag pole. Chants of "higher, higher!" propelled him about 15 feet, but that was about as far as he made it. At long last, the leaders of the parade, wearing little more than speedos, bowties, and smiles, gathered the troops and led the charge. For the next twenty minutes or so, you could hear screaming echoing all over Furman's campus as hundreds of freshmen charge to and jump into fountain after fountain (which are large and numerous at Furman). 90% of the people participating have never done this before, but they're fountain hopping pros after the first fountain. The large group seems to act as one--same mindset, same expression, same goal, no questions. Their journey lead them finally to the lake. This lake has suffered years and years of abuse from ducks, geese, swans, and other large birds, and is therefore quite disgusting. Naturally, the chant rings: "In the lake! In the lake! In the lake!"--the exact same chant that sent me into the lake this time one year ago.

We live in a culture obsessed with stupidity. I am undeniably a member of this culture. I'm a fan of fountain hopping, Conan O''Brien, Monty Python, improv comedy, you get the picture. I probably spend a little bit too much time consuming this sort of entertainment, but that's another confession for another day.

I did some Facebook stalking the other day and looked up some Furman acquaintences and some old friends from high school. I'm a little disturbed by this obsession with drunkenness. I always knew it was there, but I always kept my mind and emotions separate from it. I stuck to the youth group explanation of "kids drink to fit in." Sure, this is an easy enough surface justification, but it recently dawned on me that there is a whole lot more going on here.

A bunch of the people who seemed to boast about their drunkenness the most were people who, earlier on in their youth, would have claimed to be Christians. But later, pain and other unfortunate circumstances pushed them away from Christ and into: "It's all relative."

And a whole new can of worms opened up in my head.

We are a part of a world that is doing its very best to devoid itself of concrete truth. We don't want to offend. Truth is too uncomfortable, and it doesn't gel with our inner desire to be stupid. After all, if there really is meaning in life, why waste it? If we are really part of some great eternal design, then why live life as though it were temporary? To decide that there is something more is not an easy thing to do. Deep inside, we want to believe it, but to accept it is a huge sacrifice.

Nine times out of ten, we take the easy way out. If God is not absolute, then why live for any other purpose other than to accumulate fun, wealth, popularity, and fame? There's no denying that that list sounds very appealing. Or why not just drink it all away, and maybe have some fun in the process? It doesn't matter. It's all relative, so who can justifiably condemn for this?

The scary thing is that that is a very logical argument, especially according to the standards that we live by today. "Jesus Christ is my religion." "Wall Street is my religion." "Church is my religion." "Partying is my religion." More power to you, we all say. Or, in other words, we really don't care what happens to you in the end as long as you're comfortable until you get there.

That world is really bleak. There is little motivation for human charity. Being a person of faith is a strike against you. The church, in return, has backed into its corner and given the rest of the world the finger.

I care very deeply about what happens to the partier, the guy on wall street, the guy in church. That's the difference that Jesus Christ makes in me. A relationship with Jesus Christ is not a waiver to be able to judge those that judge me, or those that couldn't care less. It is what makes me go beyond my human desire to take the easy way out. It is why I care (sometimes, I don't--that's my fault, and I am deeply sorry) about what happens to you. It is why I do what I do. And I don't expect the world to like me for it.

Well, that was awfully dramatic.

Goodnight!

Deja vu

2005-09-05T21:30:00.000-07:00

So, I'm back in the bubble. Oddly enough, it feels like I never left. I'm living on a different side of campus, but it doesn't feel all that different so far. It seems like everyone I see is an old friend or acquaintence, whether from Lakeside Housing (we're kind of cultish in our devotion to that place), BCM, class, etc. It will be a whole new ballgame tomorrow, when 700+ Freshmen invade the place. If they're anything like I was, they'll all act like they know exactly what they're doing and have it all together, but feel like they're stuck in the running of the bulls on the inside. Whatever the case is, I'm looking forward to the chance to meet them.

I also need to write a skit and film and edit a video this week, so prayer will be greatly appreciated. At least I can focus on that for a week, rather than any of that academic garbage....I mean....yeah, nevermind.

TJ Cofield had a prophetic moment today that's worth mentioning. On the way back from our 3-hour BCM Leadership meeting this afternoon, we were talking and wondering about the Braves game that we'd missed. TJ said he was feeling a 4-2 win, with Kyle Farnsworth getting the save. And, of course, he was exactly right.

And for those who were concerned: I didn't fall out of my bed last night.

Going

2005-09-03T21:56:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, I go. I'm going a lot later than most everyone else, because at Furman University, we do not feel tied down by the norms of school starting dates. Heck, we'd start in March if it were logistically acceptable.

I've found that "going" is one of the most terrifying experiences in 99% of people's lives. Change is rough, and there is nothing like a change of environment. To guard against this, many people will never emotionally detach themselves from what they are comfortable with.

I love my family dearly. Spartanburg's fine...there's not really much to come back for, though, other than my family. Yet last year, my freshman year, I didn't go home very much. I feel bad about this, in retrospect, for my family's sake, but part of me doesn't regret it. The time that I invested in relationships on those weekends and evenings and whatevers were important to me, and perhaps important to others. Many of those people, most of whom I had not met before last fall, are helping shape who I am today. In order for this to happen, I had to make myself vulnerable and open up; and most of all, I had to let go. It's so easy to hold on to our pasts--our memories, our preconceptions, our traditions, our insecurities, our mountaintop experiences, our valleys--because they are comfortable to us. Wrapping ourselves around these things to a great degree can stunt our growth.

Every year, my youth group from home goes on a mission trip to Kentucky. It is massive. 250 high schoolers (maybe more now) would go up into the mountains of Kentucky and do Vacation Bible Schools at small churches. Over a thousand children all together would participate in these Vacation Bible Schools, and it is wonderful to see the hope and changes that many of these kids go home with. Every night, there would be marathon worship services in the chapel; these would often be more intense and passionate than what Baptists are used to. This past year, a friend of mine who had, too, graduated told me that everyday they longed to be in that chapel in Kentucky so that they could experience those worship services again. This triggered a sore spot within me that I said nothing of at the time, but has been bothering me ever since.

If you say the word "Kentucky" to just about any of the youth at my church, their eyes will light up. You could be talking about Kentucky basketball or Kentucky Fried Chicken, it doesn't matter. It seems their very soul is attached to this concept of "Kentucky." Kentucky symbolizes a place of spiritual action and emotional comfort where, somehow, God is more powerfully present. After all, it was there that they had those moving worship services, it was there that they were able to lead their first person to Christ, it was there where they finally saw how much God can move amongst his people when they simply serve with their actions.

Compared to "Kentucky," "Spartanburg" seems very lifeless. For every grain of spiritual fervor that we had up in those mountains, we were even moreso lifeless at home. There was nothing grandiose about home. The thought of it didn't send chills through you. No one followed you around with a video camera to see you do God's work. There was just nothing memorable about it. Apparently, we were only comfortable ministering in those mountains. We clung to it with our memories and sat motionless until the next summer came around. We were a farce.

God doesn't move so that we can have fond memories, or so that we can be comfortable with a place or an idea. God moves (emphasis on "moves") because there is always work to be done. The scene and the people can and often will change everyday.

In about 14 hours, the scene will change for me again. I expect this year to be very difficult...perhaps more difficult than any I've lived through so far. There will be a lot of change, trial, and discomfort. But I would rather be there than on any mountain, and I expect God to prove me a fool with all of the power He will display.

Week 1- Furman at Jacksonville St.

2005-09-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

Jacksonville State's hatred for Furman now knows no bounds.

Last year, the OVC Champion Gamecocks were first introduced to the Paladins Thanksgiving Weekend, in Paladin Stadium for the first round of the NCAA Playoffs. Furman treated them with the utmost courtesy, and sent them home with an embarassing 49-7 loss. Despite JSU's size advantage and highly-touted rushing attack, the Gamecocks were never in the game. I was puzzled; they were obviously very athletically talented, but they played, for lack of a better word, dumb football. Needless to say, I was surprised that JSU agreed to play a home and home series with Furman, starting yesterday at Jacksonville St.

On paper, it looked like a really good game...and then again, it didn't. #2 in the nation vs. #20 in the nation. Defending Southern Conference Champion vs. defending OVC Champion. But I couldn't get "49-7" out of my head. Surely JSU would put up a better fight than that.

There were a number of factors to consider. Jacksonville St. was going to be an incredibly tough place to play in--huge crowd, huge band, and they all already hated us. A victory over Furman would be their biggest in school history. So, that adds some discomfort. Also, Furman is notorious for coming out sloppy in the first game of the season. Most of the time, they survive, but sometimes they're not so fortunate. "49-7" now seems pretty unlikely.

About five minutes into the game, I finally let myself breathe a sigh of relief. Furman easily marched down the field on their first two possessions to take an early 14-0 lead. Jacksonville St. appeared to be no match for our defense, going three-and-out on most of their early possessions.

And then all sense of order was lost. Sloppy Furman showed up in full force, seemingly doing everything they could to keep JSU as close as possible. A back-and-forth slugfest unsued in the second half, and Furman finally lost the lead when the Gamecocks scored with 1:27 left in the game, 35-31.

It was all falling to pieces: expectations, the #2 ranking, our motivational edge. It was James Madison all over again.

Then Ingle Martin and the Paladins showed why this team could be "it."

We marched down the field, slowly and methodically, taking every bit of time that we had left. We suddenly were running all of the right routes, catching all of the passes, and making all of the good blocks. But we'd done this in the past in key games, only to fall short.

With 1 second left on the clock, Martin took the snap, and Justin Stepp found a hole in the coverage, and sat wide open in the endzone.

Hopefully, Furman will travel to Chattanooga on Christmas weekend for the National Championship; when that happens, we'll be able to look back at this game as the beginning of something great. The talent was there, and finally, the resolve was there, too.

Furman 37, Jacksonville State 35.

1 Year of Furman-Yet Another Tribute

2005-09-01T01:04:00.000-07:00

I've found out that there are only a limited number of truly time-consuming activities to partake in while waiting to leave for school: watch movies, play Halo, read, and reflect. Oh, and there's work, too. But who likes to write about that? Anyways, it shall come to no surprise to anyone that knows me that I have chosen to spend a lot of time in reflection. Dr. CT and Dr. K-Ray have drilled it into me.

I've taken a break from reflecting on Furman football (18 hours and 51 minutes until kickoff!) to reflect on some things with a little bit more substance. I'm just four days away from returning to Furman, so let's take a look back at my first attempt at college life, Freshman year.

-O-week was one of the most fun, memorable experiences I've had so far.
-There was nothing more relieving than the end of O-week.
-I never understood mob mentality until I threw on a bathing suit and ran through sewage filled fountains.
-There are few more awkward moments than knocking on the door of your mystery date for President's Picnic, and seeing a girl roll her eyes on the other side after it opened.
-A two dollar umbrella stands very little chance against Tropical Storm-force winds.
-The Pittsburgh Panthers recruited local hitmen to play football. Maybe even some out-of-town hitmen.
-God is bigger than any theology that any Sunday School teacher or Religion professor will teach you.
-Deciding between an original glazed and a cruller at 11 PM is insanely hard. And I apparently have an enormous soft spot for crullers.
-I know the names of the main characters of The OC, and I'm ashamed to say it. I'm even more ashamed to say that, on occassion, I watch it voluntarily and enjoy it.
-There is no equal experience to a packed Paladin Stadium on a cool November day for an intense rivalry--period.
-Winter Term bites.
-The whole 13 hugs a day thing is actually true.
-There is a difference between snow and ice, but it's not a good idea to wear shorts in either.
-Halo multiplayer can be a great bonding experience and a pain in the butt simultaneously. Why some people invest so much emotional energy into it is beyond me.
-Walker: Texas Ranger is every bit as bad as I remember it being, and I thank Conan O'Brien for reminding me of that.
-If the Religious Organizations at Furman could truly become a community, some incredible things would happen.
-Beach weekend...there's nothing to say, just dwell on that idea for a little bit..........
-Fraternities and Sorrorities are not inherently evil, but the divisions they create on the campus--that I truly hate. Rush, at times, was pathetic and really sad.
-Mark May is a college football analyst for ESPN. Don't listen to anything he says.
-Dr. Shi makes us pay a lot of money, yet that strangley doesn't make him any less likable.
-'They will know we are Christians by our love;' not our music, not our T-Shirts, not our crowd sizes, and not our protests. There are thankfully a lot of people at Furman who truly believe in this idea.
-Time invested with people is unbelievably important. I learned that the hard way.
-Before coming to Furman, I had a dream about squirrels taking over the campus. I am apparently a prophet, and I will push for escalation against this evil force.
-Religion 11: His name is Dr. Grieser, you're wrong, and he's not making it up. And though we disagreed at times, he taught me a great deal about what it means to be like Christ.
-Judaism and World History are very intriguing topics, but Winter Term can really suck the life out of them.
-Paul Triplett has no bones and will be greatly missed this year.
-Friday Afternoon Football is the perfect solution for academic aggression.
-We've barely scratched the surface of the mystery and greatness of God.

Until next time, Goodnight!

100 Seasons of Furman Football-A Tribute

2005-08-29T20:08:00.000-07:00

One of my first memories in life was a cold, damp, autumn afternoon at Paladin Stadium sometime in the late 1980s. I remember the packed, bundled up fans going nuts when the opposing team's kicker nailed the left post late in the game. I didn't know what that meant, but I knew it was good, because everyone was so happy. My father would then explain to me the concept of a field goal.

This was my childhood. Weekends were about Furman football. As a four year-old, I would tell people why I thought Quarterback Frankie Debusk was the best ("He plays for Furman!" I believe was my main argument) and that I was convinced that Clemson was full of a bunch of cheaters. I never wanted to go to college anywhere else, because to me, college was only about watching football games in the first place.

So here I am, a sophomore Religion major at Furman University, ready to begin yet another season of Furman football. Before this Thursday's game, I reflect on the storied, though sometimes laughable history of Furman football.

On December 14, 1889, Furman University and Wofford College would play the first ever college football game in South Carolina. That's right, Tiggers and Lamecocks, we were first. We also have lay claim to South Carolina football's first ever loss, losing 5-1.

Over the next half century or so, the Furman football program limped along rather pathetically. The school suspended the program on a few occassions, not wanting their Baptist students to be playing football. World War II also put the program on hold until 1946. The team would be called the Mountaineers, the Purple Hurricanes, and finally the Paladins in the '60s.

The Paladins started finding success in the 1960's, spurred on by walk-on players such as Sam Wyche, who would eventually play quarterback in the NFL and become head coach of the Cincinatti Bengals.

In 1977 Division 1 Football would be reclassified into 1-A and 1-AA. 1-A would keep it's (pathetic) bowl system and the maximum number of scholarships, while 1-AA would use a playoff system, but have a greatly reduced number of scholarships. Those who couldn't financially afford to stay in 1-A were sent to 1-AA. Furman went 1-AA, and with a student body of barely 2,500, they remain one of the smallest institutions in all of 1-AA.

Furman's small size did little to stop them from quickly becoming a 1-AA juggernaut. The once-uninspired program came to life, starting in 1978, when they won their first Southern Conference Championship, under new Head Coach Dick Sheridan. In the 80's, Furman would reach into 1-A with their dominance; over the course of 1982-1985, the Paladins defeated South Carolina once, Georgia Tech once, and North Carolina State twice, giving them a perfect record against 1-A opponents over the stretch.

In 1985, under quarterback (current head coach) Bobby Lamb, the Paladins advanced to their first National Championship. They would drop this first attempt, 44-42, to Georgia Southern.

In 1988, "a rebuilding year" in which Coach Sheridan would leave to take over NC State, first year coach Jimmy Satterfield led the Paladins back to the promised land; here they would get their revenge, defeating Georgia Southen 17-12. With the win, Furman became the smallest school to ever win a Division I Football Championship--an honor they still hold.

The 1990's would prove frustrating for the Paladins, who fell quickly from their spot atop the nation. From 1991-1998, the Paladins would go to the 1-AA playoffs only once, and the team once again became synonymous with "mediocre." 1998 would prove most frustrating, as the Paladins would drop five heartbreakers in a row after a promising 4-1 start.

1999 began with an unthinkable, "here-we-go-again" moment, as the Paladins dropped a bizarre 24-22 decision to Elon. However, we were all in for a big surprise, as this season marked the beginning of the second Golden Age of Furman football. The Paladins would finish the season 9-2 (including a hilarious 28-3 stomping of UNC) and would claim a share of the Southen Conference title with our "buddies" to the south, Georgia Southern.

2000 belonged to one of the greatest rushers in Southern Conference history, Furman tailback Louis Ivory. Ivory became the first Paladin to ever win the Walter Payton award (1-AA's Heisman) by rushing for a conference record 2,079 yards. The capper: a 301 yard performance against #1 Georgia Southern, on Homecoming, in a 45-17 victory...that was a very satisfying day, to say the least.

In 2001, the Paladins returned to the National Championship. On the way, they snapped Georgia Southern's 39-game home winning streak, as well as unbeaten home playoff streak, with a 24-17 victory in the semifinals. However, the Paladins' lack of size would prevent them from claiming their second national title, as they dropped a tough 13-6 decision to Montana.

After Head Coach Bobby Johnson left to take over at Vanderbilt, Bobby Lamb kept the 2002 Paladins afloat with an 8-3 record and a playoff birth that resulted in a disappointng first round loss at Villanova.

2003, or the "bizarro year," saw a very promising Paladins team get decimated by injuries on both sides of the ball, sending them into a funk that would result in a 6-5 record. Also, conference powers Georgia Southern and Appalachian State also failed to make the playoffs, paving the road for Wofford to take its first conference title.

2004, admittedly, still stings. Led by quarterback Ingle Martin and perhaps the best collection of talent in the school's history, the Paladins plowed their way to another conference title and the #2 seed in the 1-AA playoffs. However, conservative play and a fumble at the goalline would prove costly, as the Paladins fell, 14-13, to eventual champion James Madison in the quarterfinals.

What does 2005 hold? "Experts" are putting the bullseye on Furman, as they are preseason #1 in the majority of polls. Thankfully, starting Thursday, those polls become meaningless, and it will all be played out on the field.

So there you have it. 100 seasons of Furman football in a not-so-short summary.

I like Furman football too much. Goodnight!

Three serious posts out of four?

2005-08-29T00:46:00.000-07:00

Oy. We're going to have to fix this.

Waiting For the World To Fall

2005-08-28T20:30:00.000-07:00

The local forecast for tomorrow in Biloxi, Mississippi according to weather.com:

Bands of heavy rain containing strong gusty winds at times. High near 85F. Winds E at over 100 mph, becoming SSW and diminishing to 70 to 90 mph. Rainfall over two inches. Wind gusts could reach 150 mph.

Or:

Hurricane. Catastophe. Leave. Now.

Whoever and wherever you are, take some time to fervently pray for those in the path of this storm. I keep waiting for it to seriously weaken to a Category 3, like all "Death Hurricanes" eventually do before striking, but it's not happening. This is the real thing. We may remember what happens in the next 24 hours for the rest of our lives--right beside Hugo, Andrew, and Camille in our memories. Let's hope New Orleans is still there on Tuesday.

I don't know if there is any meaning behind hurricanes. It feels like the most hopeless, pointless situation in the world. A little rainstorm comes off the coast of Africa, becomes a large low-pressure system, keeps moving, Tropical Depression, Tropical Storm, we give it a name, it becomes a Hurricane, and then this. Thousands of people right now have the same thought on their mind: Where is God in that?

We live in a world that is as human as we are. It is governed by natural laws, just as we are governed by human laws. Every so often, unfortunate circumstances of these laws create disturbances; greed leads to oppression, oppression leads to war, anger leads to murder, and some warm water leads to a hurricane. Our system is not perfect, nor is the world's system. Things mess up. Sometimes, things are closer to perfectly terrible than perfect.

I believe that God created this place to be perfect. But we messed it up. So, the world became like us--capable of so many great things, yet still ultimately flawed.

"Well, if God is soooo loving, then....."

....God would do something about it. A way out. A second chance. A shot at purpose beyond this fallen world. Right?

Or wait, if I am part of what is screwing this place up, and I am, why do I deserve anything of that sort? Does love like that exist?

The whole situation is just nonsensical by my standards.

Thank God that Jesus Christ is nonsensical.

The Blessing of Persecution

2005-08-25T23:11:00.000-07:00

If you go to Cuba, you'll see the Holy Spirit spreading like wildfire. Castro has forbidden the construction of Christian church buildings; Christians are only able to assemble in their homes. On top of that, these church-homes are restricted to a membership of twenty-five. The result? Every week, a church fills, so a new one is started the next week, which fills immediately as well. The Cuban people have little political motivation to follow Christ. The government does everything they can to keep God at bay, but this, of course is a fool's errand.

The physical conditions that these people live in may be considered pathetic by American standards, but this Christian community has more life and vibrance than what 99% of American Christianity has seen, or scarier still, imagined. Go to numerous other third world countries, and you'll find much of the same situation.

I go to a large church that couldn't be closer to the middle of the southern Bible belt. It has hundreds of pews, with cushioning on both the seat AND the back (but no recliners). 3,000 people come every Sunday, without watching their backs or worrying what the greater public will think. I have a huge collection of church camp T-shirts from over my years there that I would wear to school without expecting any problems. We have a state of the art youth center that has become a popular hangout for teens and local college students. It is an environment overflowing with--above all else--comfort. We mistakenly feel that America is attacking Christianity, but the reality is that we've never been more free to worship.

Freedom of worship is not a replacement for or equivalent to freedom in Christ. I appreciate the freedoms that living in America brings. I'm glad I don't have a price on my head because I call Jesus Lord. But I fear that because of the overwhelming comfort that I live in I've never tasted the true freedom that Christ offers. The Cubans I mentioned before know freedom greater than their own lives; and they put their lives on the line to experience it. They know freedom from an oppressive government, from oppressive living conditions, and from a world that promises them very little.

Christians were never supposed to mesh with the world. We were promised to always be the red-headed stepchildren, at best. When the Holy Spirit first descended upon this earth, it came to a people that would be despised by most of the known world. Yet these despised people multiplied in number daily, even through an attempted genocide. The Holy Spirit thrived under the worst conditions because the people it entered clung to it more than life itself; and therefore, God blessed their efforts a hundredfold.

The more I focus on these persecuted Christians, the more I see a stark contrast between them and the Country Club-Christianity that I live in. Are we still relying on the Holy Spirit that dwells within us? Or do we ignore it in favor of rallies, revivals, See You At the Poles (more on that another day), and cushy church pews?

I know I'm guilty.

Down With Capitalism!

2005-08-20T00:38:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, but that was just sad. I've never had to delete more ads that claim: "love your blog...come visit my Goat Medicine blog!" (yeah, something like that....) than I had to yesterday. That's right...the post about the death of my uncle was used as ad space.

Let it be known to all you people out there who actually make money that I am launching my war against internet capitalism by deleting every single blog advertisement that is ever posted on my boards. So, for those of you who actually read this, why bother posting these things?

In other news:

--The Atlanta Braves honored their 1995 World Champion team by losing 12-7 to the Padres. That has bad news written all over it.
--It is 12 days until Furman's season opener against Jacksonville State. In related news, it is 119 days until the National Championship.
--The Japanese are working to make fully-immersive TV a reality by 2020. It will display 3-Dimensional holographic high definition images, and will also allow you to feel and even smell what is being displayed. It'll be fun to see people scramble for the remote when the local news reports on sewage problems.

Ok. That's enough for tonight.

In Memory: David "Sam" Prince, Sr.

2005-08-17T01:11:00.000-07:00

Early this morning, the world lost a saint of a man. My great uncle, Sam, died early this morning of heart failure. He was the fourth and last "grandparent figure" to die on my dad's side of the family in the last two years.

Sam was a professor at Wofford College for many years, and it showed. My feelings about Wofford aside, I had the utmost respect for the amount of knowledge he had in his head. Even several weeks ago, his mind was still as sharp as ever. He was still full of stories, full of wit, and very alive mentally and emotionally.

Unfortunately, Sam had very little reason to smile in his later years. His wife lost her long battle with Alzheimer's about a year ago. He's been hospitalized numerous times, leaving him almost completely incapacitated and unable to do anything about some pretty miserable circumstances developing around him. Yet still Sam continued on with a heart of gold and a smile on his face, always enormously happy to see you, and acting as if there was nothing wrong in the entire world.

Sam made yet another trip to the hospital a little over a week ago from various complications. A mild stroke had possibly occurred, because Sam was no longer able to communicate nearly as well as he once was able to. He was in bad shape, but I admit that death really hadn't occurred to me...he had been in and out of the hospital so many times before, and I didn't see this time as being any different. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Please consider my family, Sam's friends, and some future messes that will have to be cleaned up in prayer. And make sure you take the chance to tell those that you love how much you love and appreciate them.

Randomtastic

2005-08-14T22:48:00.000-07:00

-Chariots of Fire, upon further review, still rocks.
-After hearing Chris Rice's new album, I demand that all of my favorite artists join him in going indie.
-Nothing beats floating in a lake lazily and throwing a rubber grippy frisbee (except for maybe a glow in the dark frisbee).
-I like Chicken Run.
-I'm still hoping that churches (mine in particular) will soon realize that the song "Friend of God" is, among other things, self-centered and completely devoid of creativity.
-Crickets are wonderful outside. But inside my room? Not so much.

2005-08-12T13:35:00.000-07:00

"The thrust in the New Testament was always toward the power itself rather than any particular manifestations that came alongside the power. Today I am afraid that the priority sequence is reversed in some circles. People are fascinated with visible manifestations rather than real power from the Spirit to do God's work."
--Jim Cymbala, Fresh Power

We miss out on the irony of God.

By the world's template for gods, our God should be the complete embodiment of power; he should control everything...the cosmos, the weather, life, death, the destination of souls...all of the dirty work that humanity is too weak to even comprehend. God is more than powerful enough to have his finger on all of these things, so therefore satisfies our "god requirements." But the truly substantial power of God has nothing to do with these things. In fact God's power seems foolish by our worldly wisdom... and so, of course, we are the true fools.

Rodney Norvell, Campus Minister for Furman BCM, once said that today's praise music is almost completely an Old Testament affair. The songs that so many sing deal pretty much exclusively with the massiveness of God. "You created mountains, stars, people; You're massive, You're this, You're that..."--this is pretty much the general idea. However, the message of Christ and the Holy Spirit--the reasons that we're still singing these types of songs in the first place--have very little to do with these physical manifestations of incredible power. Rather Christ is about the most unorthodox power imaginable: Weakness. Timidity. Servitude. And the Holy Spirit works on a very low-key and personal level that will do very little to impress. Yet the fruit of this power cannot be created by any other force that exists.

The Christianity that I know today likes to think of God as some sort of heavenly superhero. This, in part, explains the somewhat disturbing obsession with the endtimes (which Jesus himself said we shouldn't worry ourselves with--we'll never be able to comprehend the details). We long to see an explosive display of God's power to "defeat the world," so to speak; sort of a righteous form of Superman beating the crap out of some punk villains. We keep getting more and more flashy with our worship. The louder, the better...are we also trying to be superheroes? The earnest passion and cries of David is one thing, but I can't think of any biblical or logical reason to backup the show that has become our worship.

True prayer is becoming alarmingly absent in American Christianity, and is giving way to insincere legalistic prayer. I'll take the first stone for this one, as my prayerlife is pathetic. I'm often strongwilled and foolish enough to believe I can find God's way myself. Prayer is about more than you and God having a buddy-buddy conversation over a couple of Cokes. That sort of downplay, I believe, is the biggest reason for the decline of personal and communal prayer. Prayer, rather, should be an embodiment of our human weakness and an act of desperation for the power of the Holy Spirit.

God empowers his servants when they make this connection with the Holy Spirit with small amounts of power. These small amounts of power enable us to do things far more meaningful than bringing down fire or walking on water. They give us the humility to debase ourselves to the level of the homeless and hungry. They help us connect with the hurting and lonely. They give us community with believers and nonbelievers alike. They show us what it means to love. It's quiet, it's slow, and completely unremarkable. Yet the results can be earth-shattering.

Fore more, read:
Fresh Power by Jim Cymbala
Isaiah 1
Acts

2005-08-11T16:52:00.000-07:00

Hey, it's a picture of the wedding! Fancy that.

Francoeur Mania and Facebook Madness

2005-08-10T21:01:00.000-07:00

I went to Atlanta yesterday, supposedly to move stuff into my brother's apartment, but for me, that was merely an excuse to get somewhere in the vicinity of Turner Field for a Braves game. I enjoy few things more than a good day at the ballpark, so the inevitable exhaustion that came from a few hours of heavy lifiting, a baseball game, and getting home at 3 AM didn't phase me. The Braves were single-happy in route to a 7-1 win over the now-awful San Francisco Giants. Jeff Francoeur (who, remember from my last post, is the man) went 4-4 with an RBI and a run. He just missed a shot at a fifth at bat when Adam LaRoach grounded into the fourth or fifth double play of the night, so, stinkers. Either way, Francoeur Mania has struck Atlanta. The guy has only been playing for a month, and he has reached superstar status. Speaking of which, he just doubled in a run in the game I'm watching to break a scoreless tie. I tip my cap to you, Jeff. I also tip my cap to the Turner Field workers. We were treated with hospitality and given a lot of help with my surgery-crippled sister, and even given a ride in a golf cart back to our car so she wouldn't have to crutch her way across the parking lot. People that do those sorts of things are never given any kind of credit, and that's a shame.

So I'm alone for the night, and needed something to do while I'm capturing Wedding footage onto the computer, so I decided to browse the ridiculously large archive of Furman Facebook groups. A couple of questions: A) What is everyone so angry at? and B) Why are we going to such efforts to ensure that people know that we are angry? 50-60% of the groups on Facebook are "F (this)," "I Hate (that)," "Raise your hand if (so-and-so) pisses you off".... I've known for a while that we are a society of malcontents (especially at Furman), but it is alarming to me that we're becoming so fixated on our anger and what we don't like about those around us. Blame it on the media or whatever, but we are steadily becoming less inhibited in "expressing ourselves" so to speak, and this is going beyond friendly banter over political or religious differences.

The natural reaction for Christians (myself included) is to respond with an equally antagonistic attitude, especially when we are the ones being attacked. We are much more prone to jump in defense of our pride, when we are called to respond with love in all situations. I am chief of sinners--I fight to defend myself far too often and spend too much time finding faults in others.

I'm not saying that we should blind ourselves to what is wrong in the world. Instead, I hope that we can turn the tide toward edification, rather than mudslinging.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

To exert the least possible effort...

2005-08-08T20:48:00.000-07:00

...I won't even write in complete sentences.

Today's News:

--Furman: #2 in Preseason Poll
--Preseason Polls: Meaningless
--Jeff Francoeur: The Man and the National League's daddy
--Mattresses: Heavy
--Peter Jennings: Was one of the best on the air, but tragically lost his battle with lung cancer
--The Italian Pie: Slow, but worth it
--Discovery: Still not on Earth

--Lauren Harris: 19 years old-- Happy Birthday!

For Casey McCall, I'm Dan Rydell. You're watching Sports Night, so stick around.

While I'm Thinking About It....

2005-08-07T20:28:00.000-07:00

It's been a night of plopping down and watching movies with my family as the dust settles from the wedding (which was wonderful, thanks to all who came). So while I'm thinking about movies (yet again), I thought that I would write down that ever-changing Top 10 list to give it some solidarity.

10. Bruce Almighty
--It's not the funniest movie in the world, not the best-written movie in the world, not the best shot movie in the world, and there aren't any acting performances that will blow you away. So why does this movie make a Top Ten list? Because it is a surprisingly powerful parable. Writer/Director Tom Shadyac, despite his propensity for completely idiotic movies (Nutty Professor, Ace Ventura) had some deeper motives for this one. It reminded me about some of the most basic and most important principles of God that I forget so often. And it's pretty funny, too.

9. The Village
--See earlier post.

8. Batman Begins
--Finally, Batman the way it should be! No fascination with rubber nipples. No close-up shots of Batman's rubber butt. No Chris O'Donnell or horrifyingly bad villains (and I'm not talking about their criminal deeds). Just Bruce Wayne and Batman. It finally occurred to someone, "Hey, there must be some interesting character development that goes into a guy that dresses like a bat and fights evil. Let's look into that." It's dark, gritty, and semi-realistic, just like Batman should be. Christian Bale was a great Bruce Wayne and an adequate Batman (the raspy Batman voice fell a little short). And you can't go wrong with Liam Neeson, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, and Cillian Murphy. You can go wrong with Katie Holmes, but 4 out of 5 ain't bad.

7. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
--Every second of this movie is ridiculous, when you think about it, but it works. One of the most imaginative movies, ever. Jim Carray proves that he is a billion times better when he's not making a fool of himself, and that he plays the insecure loner very well for such an arrogant guy. This is my favorite performance of his, along with The Truman Show and The Majestic (both of which would probably make a Top 25 list). Solid cinematography, especially in the collapsing beach house scene, which was done brilliantly.

6. Gladiator
--It gets points for being among the ultimate guy movies, but thankfully goes beyond that and is actually a watchable movie for all genders...all two of them... It's a simple premise, but executed near-perfectly. It makes me want to go back in time and single-handedly overthrow the Roman Empire myself. Russell Crowe's anger issues are put to good use in this one, and like him or hate him, he can't miss as an actor, at least in recent years. Definitely worthy of the Best Picture nod that it received.

5. The Natural
--No disrespect to Field of Dreams, but THIS is the best baseball movie of all time. Robert Redford, Glenn Close, Willford Brimley, Kim Bassinger, Robert Duval...can't go wrong there. The story may be cliche these days, because EVERY sports movie copies it (group of misfit players band together and put together an improbable run at greatness, capped by a dramatic game-ending blow). It's a great movie beginning to end, but would make the list for Roy Hobbs' famous bloody-jersey, light busting, "pick me a winner Bobby" home run trot alone. I fight tears every time.

4. Chariots of Fire
--It's one of the most Christian-quoted movies of all time, but it thankfully has plenty more merit beyond that. Though very simpy shot and a little hard to follow, this movie still holds up incredibly well nearly 30 years later. One of the most in-depth looks at character I've seen in a movie, and it manages to respectfully portray both Christianity and Judaism, which some people have a hard time doing.

3. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
--It may be the best movie I've seen, but it loses out to The Towers on my favorites list for reasons I will get to soon. All the same, the scope of this film is rivaled by no other, but still manages to powerfully capture emotion, love, loss, hope, and all of those other important things. A near-perfect conclusion to THE best movie trilogy/series of all time.

2. Signs
--No, I'm not crazy. Perfectly shot, perfectly written, perfectly acted, perfectly simplistic, and shockingly meaningful... all of this from a so-called Sci-Fi alien thriller. I've never seen faith, family, or hope more powerfully portrayed on the big screen. A witty script, great casting, and Shyamalan's ability to manipulate every emotion imaginable with relative ease propel this movie to classic status in my book--one of the biggest influences in my path into filmmaking.

1. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
--I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the second chapter in Peter Jackson's epic blew me away more than any movie I've ever seen. Return of the King was even better, but I was expecting it that time around. Towers changed what I thought possible in moviemaking, and left me bamboozled for a couple of weeks. Yes, bamboozled. I hope that the upcoming Narnia series gets somewhere close to this greatness, but it will take a lot for any movie to dethrone the greatest film adventure of our time.

The Pretty Good Man

2005-08-04T19:42:00.000-07:00

I wonder if I'm doing this whole best man thing correctly. The wedding is oh, a day and a half away, and I've done..... pretty much nothing. I do have one job--plan the bachelor party--and I've royally screwed that up (but I'm still blaming it on people and circumstances, rather than taking any responsibility at all). So there is truth to mine and Christopher's argument. "Best Man" is completely inappropriate. He is the best man. That's why someone decided to marry him. I'm just pretty good, and flying dangerously close to mediocre. So I have less than 24 hours to turn things around. Here's hoping.

Now for the randomness that every blog requires:

--My uncle has a black, mop-like, midget of a dog that, honest to goodness, looks exactly like an Ewok. And I discovered tonight that she will run suicides down the hallway every night for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Well, I actually just assumed that she was trying to entertain me. So, thanks, Princess.

--Half of SC started school today. I move in a month from today. August bites.

The Village, The Church, and Dudes in Red Cloaks

2005-08-03T22:24:00.000-07:00

Why is it that nearly every metaphor I find these days seems to relate to the church.... in a negative way? My little sister calls me a cynic, and I know that she's right, but I'm not sure that means that I am wrong at the same time. Whatever the case may be, I was hit with a double-decker bus full of metaphors/commentaries while watching M. Night Shyamalan's masterpiece The Village today.
For those of you who haven't seen The Village--see it. Now. Put the computer to sleep, go to Blockbuster, and don't come back untill you've finished it. Also, don't talk to anyone else about it before you see it, because, odds are, they hated it. 95% of America came to this movie thinking, "Summer, M. Night Shyamalan, scary movie, bring girlfriend, eat a lot of popcorn." I understand that this is probably not the kind of person who is going to enjoy a slow-moving, moody, deeply intellectual movie. So it's not really their fault. It's Disney's fault for releasing it in the summer and advertising it as The Sixth Sense 2.
I am apart of the 5% that believes that The Village is one of the most beautiful movies shot in recent years. The raw cinematography is incredible, especially in an age where scenery is overwhelmed by some CGI monstrosity (yes, George Lucas, I see that hand). James Netwon Howard's score, appropriately nominated for an Academy Award, has a stranglehold on emotion. Joaquin Phoenix proves his worth again by stepping into unfamiliar territory without a hitch (evil, crazed emperor in Gladiator; likeable, yet slightly arrogant everyman in Signs; awkward, shy village hero in The Village; and a dead-on Johnny Cash impersonation in the upcoming Walk The Line). Bryce Dallas Howard steals the show, and it's a good thing, too, because if she screwed up, the whole movie would be in serious trouble. Adrian Brody completes the trio of misfits with a dead-on and slightly disturbing "village idiot" performance. I'm glad that he has since realized his true dream and cracked the Diet Coke commercial circuit. The sky's the limit, Brody.
When I first saw The Village, as soon as the credits rolled, EA Ferree (EA Cox on Saturday) piped, "It's the church!" This statement struck me at first because I realized just how much she was becoming like my "make a metaphor out of everything" family. But though I doubt M. Night had such intentions, EA's metaphor may not be far off.
*SPOILER WARNING*
The Village is essentially about being afraid of something that's not there, and about those who create that fear. The village elders wished to preserve their way of life, so they created a fear amongst their people so they would not dare leave it--great lengths to preserve their "untouched place"... or to employ a Furman buzz word, their "bubble." Everything within this bubble was self-sustaining (though not completely adequate). Hypothetically, if they wanted, life could have gone on in such a manner forever.
Today's American church is the most highly organized bubble in the world. Christianity has become self-sustained financially, culturally, and socially. Very little comes in through the woods, and even less goes out through the woods. As Lucius's tower-friend says nonchalantly: "The towns? Why would I think of the towns? They're full of wicked people." True, no one has planted any red-cloaked glorified scarecrows to keep us from thinking about or venturing into the large world around the church. Instead, we have created such barriers ourselves. Our biggest fear? Discomfort. Christianity has become a haven for little more than comfort for so many people. And while God gives us comfort in desperation, the words of Christ should make us anything but comfortable. His challenges have very little to do with self-satisfaction or happiness and everything to do with departing from our homes to give to those in need; whether they need hope, food, or anything else. I read yesterday that a high UK official said several years ago that we now have the technology and resources to put an end to extreme poverty worldwide; what we lack is the spiritual or political will. That ties my stomach in knots.
So what else do the people of Shyamalan's village have in common with our churches? Well, to end this cynic-fest momentarily, I noticed that the elders of the village had genuinely good and pure intentions. And the hopeful part of me believes that the same is true with our churches. There are still a lot of good people heading these up. So no one ever forget that, even if I often verbally question methods.
The villager's heavy reliance on committees and town meetings for EVERYTHING ("Some kids saw Those We Don't Speak Of lurking around.... let's have a committee that talks to every single villager, none of whom saw what happened, one by one, in an exhausting day-long process") bears some resemblance to the church... but this is more comical than relevant, so I'll leave that there. Though it is a little maddening how the elders were able to manipulate the villagers with these committees and meetings.

So that's something I've been chewing on all day. I think I'll watch some mindless comedy tomorrow.