4 days and counting till we saddle up and move west to Indiana -- hence the distinct absence of blogging recently.  I must depend completely upon the words of my compatriots in this space for a little while longer.

There are few things more stressful (and I hate that word, terribly overused) than moving.  Once we get there, I'll probably need several days and several bottles to calm down and get my bearings.

Wish us luck.

We sleekit, cow'rin, and tim'rous beasties

Post-docs, academics, students and anyone who has ever had to speak in public should read this great piece by Rachel Brem or perhaps not because the identification factor is so very high that you may find yourself collapsing against the desk in hypoglycemic horror or longing for a hotel breakfast. And you don't have to know a thing about mouse genetics in order to appreciate it.

If you like mouse genetics though, you may well be interested in this update on the ongoing intellectual property imbrolgio over the transgenic mouse. This would be a perfect place to discuss the pros and cons of intellectual property if only I understood them. But I don't. Alex Tabarrok does however, so perhaps you should go see what he has to say on the topic.

How's your stomach feeling? Strong? Ready for grossness? Then click on over to the Weekly Standard site and read what Matt Labash has to say about Hugh Hefner. He think's he's a liberator, but actually he's a nutcase. Hugh, not Matt.

Here are some revelations you probably didn't need to know.

Hugh is Sensitive: "Hefner is a gentle lover, Zehme [Hugh's ghostwriter] tells us, presumably not from personal experience, though one can't be sure with sentences like: 'Feelings intensified, as they are wont to, and walls changed to portals, as his gentleness would impress each woman he ever knew.' How Hefner had a chance to survey each woman, when he was pinned at the bottom of a Sealy Posturepedic dogpile, Zehme doesn't specify."

Hugh is Really Kind of Nuts: "Blessed with a white-trash palate (he loves Wonder Bread, but only fresh from an unopened pack), Hefner still manages to be so fussy that his round-the-clock kitchen staff keeps a meticulous log in the butler's pantry, along with photographs, detailing his meal preparations right down to the vegetable arrangements and placement of the salt and pepper shaker on his bed tray...A fried chicken fiend (he's declared himself 'pretty horny for some fried chicken'),...He requires three drumsticks per meal, and the drumsticks, when ordered from the butcher, must weigh 2.8 to 3 ounces, while thighs should weigh 3.5 to 4 ounces and breasts should be 22 to 25 ounces."


Post-Coital Breakfast Recommendations: "After a good, clean mansion orgy, which Zehme somehow knows is 'always happily consensual, full of good cheer and humor, lacking inhibition and later regret,' Hefner also likes to chow. Even in the middle of the night, his requisite post-coital meal (the book actually contains a photo of it) is 'eggs, sunny side up, with bacon, crisp. Hash brown potatoes. Buttered toast, grape jelly, a cold glass of milk, and applesauce. Followed by French toast. All served on a bed tray.' Admonishing Hefner to 'get a room"'would never be appropriate, since he logs more rack-time than '70s-era Brian Wilson. 'Get a table at Denny's,' would be more like it."

Quotable End: "Perhaps Hefner really has changed America. If so, someone should hold his nose in it."

My goodness, the world is alive with bloggable goodness. As the Style Editor is at a National Academy of Sciences conference, and the Doc is loading a moving van full of Boston Beans, salted cod and rum for his trip to the Land of Lutherans, that puts the burden of blogging on my shoulders.

So here's an item that the Syle Editor will find very interesting. She often complains bitterly that people are starting to use the word "come over to a barbecue" when they mean "come over for a grill in my backyard." Thanks to an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer, we now have a succinct definition that proves her completely in the right:

Low, indirect heat for long, slow cooking is the key difference between barbecue and grilling. Grilling occurs directly over the heat source, and it's relatively quick because the cooking temperature is high. Barbecue is low and slow, cooking at a temperature hovering just under 212 degrees.

"Water boils at 212 degrees. Because all living things are comprised mostly of water, the water in meats will boil, too. When it does, it causes an explosion of the cell walls and that causes toughness," Hofman explained.

Tenderness and flavor are the chief components of prize-winning barbecue as judged in contests held all over the country.

There you have it. Grilling and barbecuing aren't synonyms, the Physics Says So.

Don't mess with the physics, you damn kids.

It must be late July. The Braves just pushed by the Phillies into first place.

Let baseball misery now begin...

As the Act of Contrition notes, "for what I have done and what I have failed to do" -- I am quite contrite for not blogging as of late (a serious sin of omission), shamed by my fellow poster (who also operates a fine establishment over at zambone.com).
 
We are moving to Indiana in (dare I think it) two weeks, to Valparaiso, that thumping heart of Lutheranism in the thumping heartland of America, while we remain a Roman Catholic island amidst it all.  I am glad to see that Hoosiers are pleased with their state, opting to stay rather than move from the "Crossroads of America."
 
Alexander Hamilton, "the greatest American politician never to be president?"  An insightful and inciting remark, no?  Of course it kicks into the shadows a whole host of bright lights, like Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, Daniel Webster, James G. Blaine, among others.  I probably agree, but...
 
Should the Brits be celebrating Bastille Day?  I say fly the White Flag.
 
Proper celebration of William Blake, a man of vision and visions, and (may my heart not skip a beat) do I read this correctly that the British Empire is no longer a dirty word?
 
And let this be a warning to you: don't smoke in portable toilets.  Lots of gas there.

The Lobster Quadrille

Your correspondent has been roving about the British Virgin Islands of late, which is why she has been even more silent than usual on this space, and while one should definitely go to the BVI for some gorgeous scenery, superlative snorkeling, and easy but enjoyable sailing, what one does not go for is the food. The cheap drinks perhaps, although caveat emptor as to that because I had a rum punch unworthy of the name at a well known bar down there, but not the food. (A maximum respect shoutout though to the chicken roti at Ali Baba's on Jost Van Dyke and to their pina coladas as well, rated #1 in both alcoholic and virgin forms by our experienced crew.) I tried for instance what passes for a lobster down there, and I can confidently state that New England has nothing to fear. You can have the spiny lobster, Panulirus argus , give me the sweet briny succulence of Homarus americanus.

After this experience then, I look forward more eagerly than usual to reading at the earliest opportunity what sounds like a spiffy little book The Secret Life of Lobsters by Trevor Corson, which sounds to be chockful of fascinating information guaranteed to stupefy any unwelcome interlocutor at a social occasion. (A welcome interlocutor will of course be fascinated by all this interesting information.)

Mercy, Maude

I just noticed this scary piece on the New Criterion's excellent blog, Armavirumque. (The original is from Opinion Journal)

We're Christians, relatively speaking

About 88% of American teenagers identify themselves as Christian. But very few of them are, in fact, Christian. That isn't merely to say that they stray from time to time from the path. It is something more worrisome--by and large they don't even preach what they ought to practice. They do not hold the beliefs that are prerequisites of Christianity--and here is the proof.
". . . slightly more than half of all U.S. teens also believe that Jesus committed sins while he was on earth. About 60% agree that enough good works will earn them a place in heaven, in part reflecting a Catholic view, but also flouting Protestantism's central theme of salvation only by grace. About two-thirds say that Satan is just a symbol of evil, not really a living being. Only 6% of all teens believe that there are moral absolutes--and, most troubling to evangelical leaders, only 9% of self-described born-again teens believe that moral truth is absolute."

Remember, we are talking here about "believers" popularly thought to be "fundamentalist," rigid, intolerant, and so on! Has relativism so thoroughly permeated the culture that even their (as we are told) hermetically sealed minds cannot keep it out?

Whoa. I've never been a fan of Jesus, the really cool dude, school of "Christian" "thought". In fact I will go so far as to describe myself as an implacable enemy, as it is directly contrary to Biblical teaching. If all Jesus is is a really cool dude, I want nothing to do with him. I don't need a cool dude; I need a Savior. (Incidentally, children, St. Paul takes a similar view. You can find it in 1 Corinthians 15:12-20. The majority of you who don't believe in the bodily resurrection though may find v. 21 a bit of a shock, so brace yourselves.) But I had, apparently foolishly, thought this element was relatively minor, but if more that 50% of them think Jesus sinned while on earth, Christianity in US has a serious problem.

Logic and basic literacy face severe challenges as well, because according to the original piece, 60% believe the Bible is absolutely correct in all its teachings, and yet nowhere does the Bible teach that Jesus sinned. Pay attention, kids: Jesus wept, not sinned.

Been off for a bit, teaching and getting ready for the big move to the Midwest.

MCJ, in its short and direct way, explaining why the Anglican\Episcopal Church remains a very derailed faith, one of "moral, intellectual, Scriptural and spiritual bankruptcy."

Free Jeeves. Here, here.

We also do not approve of men with ponytails. To steal a thought from Eliot, for once stop trying to be eccentric, and hop the terribly exciting, thrilling ride that is being centric. We recommend it with conviction.

Puff this. A Galway pub defies the Irish national smoking ban and allows its patrons to light up: Galway-based Fibber McGee's decided to flout the law after suffering a 60% drop in sales since the ban was introduced in March.

Its owners are undeterred by warnings that they could lose their licence.

"We're going out of business. We might as well go out with a puff of smoke," said co-owner Ciaran Levanzin.

Here's a good headline: Sculptures mistaken for dead bodies

And on this day in history:

John D. Rockefeller, oil tycoon and world's richest man, was born in 1839.
Alec Waugh (brother of Evelyn) was born in 1898.
And William Jennings Bryan delivered his famous (or infamous, if you are a goldbug) "Cross of Gold" speech at the 1896 Democratic National Convention: You come to us and tell us that the great cities are in favor of the gold standard; we reply that the great cities rest upon our broad and fertile prairies. Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country ... If they dare to come out in the open field and defend the gold standard as a good thing, we will fight them to the uttermost. Having behind us the producing masses of this nation and the world, supported by the commercial interests, the laboring interests and the toilers everywhere, we will answer their demand for a gold standard by saying to them: You shall not press down upon the brow of labor this crown of thorns, you shall not crucify mankind upon a cross of gold.

As for Marty's Martin Luther: I am going to have to read the book. As Woodward describes it, it is a graceful synthesis of scholarship since the mid-1960's. I am most interested in how Marty as a (liberal) Lutheran deals with Dr. Luther's continuing presence within his own ecclesiastical body. These days, Luther is more often a skeleton at the feast then the convivial fellow he was while alive...at least in Marty's brand of Lutheranism.

At the same time, Luther is not as welcome as you might think among the conservative Lutherans. They take their nourishment, whether they know it or not, from the Lutheran scholastic theologians of the 17th century. Luther is for them someone to be affirmed, to be held up as a badge of honor, but not necessarily to be read.

Where do I fit in on this? Well, I am pretty unabashed in my admiration for Luther, which increases the more I read him. The reason so many are abashed is because of his profound honesty. Erasmus, much more popular amongst academics, was much more given to deviousness and intellectual subterfuge. Which is perhaps why he is more popular among academics. If you want to live the spiritual and intellectual life with your chin up, eyes front, and heart on your sleeve, then you can do much worse than choosing Luther as your exemplar.

I await with mild interest the ex cathedra, ex polka response of Bunnie Diehl to all this.

I don't believe we have commented upon the National Trust for Historic Preservation's list of the 11 most endangered historic sites in the United States. The Trust has really gotten ambitious of late. They used to list houses or museums or train stations. While they still do that, they have gotten an inclination towards gigantism, putting a district of Colorado, western ghost towns or pbulic schools of the 19th century on their list. This year they have included...the State of Vermont.

Well, that makes you sit up and take notice, let me tell you. Given the fascination we have for the question of Killington Secession, for Calvin Coolidge, for the Dying Breed of Yankees...why can't we think of a way to save Vermont? I am afraid that it would have to begin with a few internment camps being set up in the Adirondacks. Desperate times deserve desperate measures, don't you know.

Naturally they direct their fury at Walmart and the "Big Box Stores". Me, I think Ben and Jerry are to blame.

(Aghast exhale.) Given that I am in the process of writing my dissertation, let me register a hearty dose of outrage along with the Doc's at that intellectual pervert and thief. In such a situation, I am sure that I would be physically ill. Really. So much work, pride, thought, ardor...taken.

For academics and writers, this is a horrifying tale of deceit: a professor finds another prof who plagiarized her entire dissertation. In the end, the other prof was stripped of the Ph.D. and fired. There are few more disappointing moments than finding a student who lazily copies work (usually from the net, usually a bad paper); I cannot even imagine if I came upon another dis or book that someone passed off as their own, that was entirely my words and work.

"This hath offended!" Happy Birthday Thomas Cranmer, born this day in 1489.

Fed up with inconsiderate dog owners, one British Council will now paint the poop pink. Why didn't I think of that?

A book review on Martin Marty's new bio of Martin Luther. Perhaps my good Lutheran compatriots have something to say on this?

World's oldest paper boy -- a Welshman, delivering papers since 1933, age 95.