A. Friday night. Met some friends at a downtown bar for a couple of drinks. Around midnight or so, an inebriated girl who none of us knew walked over to our table.
"I noticed that your table was bubbling up with conversation, so I thought I'd come over and join you," she said. We all looked at her, looked at each other, and before we could say anything, she pulls up a chair, sits down on my left, and proceeds to ask us what we were talking about before she joined us.
"We were just talking about a guy in South Carolina who thinks he is Jesus Christ," I say.
"Oh, yeah, 'It's just a shot away/It's just a shot away,'" she sings in her best Mick Jagger.
"Um, why are you singing the Stones?"
"'It's just a shot away/It's just a shot away.'"
"We were talking about the South. You know that the Stones are from England, right?"
She stares blankly at me for a moment and changes the topic. "Let's go around the room and tell me what you believe in," she says, turning to the girl on her left. Although we didn't really mind her being there, the girl to her left was obviously unnerved by the whole situation, so the next guy offers an answer.
"Zucchini."
"Zucchini? You mean squash?" she asks.
"No," he says in a most adamant and serious tone. "It's a common mistake, but the two are completely different."
"What do you mean you believe in zucchini?" she asked, not really believing such a silly tale.
"Well, it's terribly personal and it's really hard to talk about. You just have to see it for yourself." For about the next 20 minutes, we followed his lead and got her to actually believe that he believed in zucchini. "Don't mind him, he gets easily offended about his zucchini." "He's been like this for years." "Sometimes we don't even understand him."

And a good time was had by all.

B. Saturday and Sunday. Last weekend was the women's retreat, so Brent and I took the twins (2 yr old girls) and Owen (under a year) to a mountain cabin in NC. We hiked around a bit, watched the girls play dress up, and dealt with them not feeling 100% over the weekend.

And a good time was had by all.

C. I'm not sure if there's a connection with the kids not feeling well, but I am now sick with some sort of stomach virus. Last night I went to a friend's house to watch some kung fu, when my stomach started hurting. I came home around 11:00, and around midnight I was unloading whatever goodies I had eaten that day. I was hoping that I would have felt better after that, but, alas, it was not to be. I immediately got chills and started shivering uncontrollably. Weird. So, I bundled up, trying to stay warm and trying to go to sleep. But, alas, it was not to be. The ol' stomach was still aching, and although I didn't think there was anything left, I took a couple of trips to the porcelain throne but with no result. Now comes the scary part. On the third trip, as I was kneeling in anticipation, I started feeling lightheaded and my vision did this prickly thing that it's done in the past prior to passing out. (I've passed out a few times while getting blood drawn, in every case because I didn't have a good meal or I exercised too heavily beforehand.) Not wanting to be found four days later on the floor of my bathroom, I got up to get my cell phone, stumbling around trying to concentrate enough to remember where I last put it. Before I could get to it, my legs give way, knocking over the kitchen chair and bringing a lamp down with me. I didn't totally black out, so I stood up, grabbed the phone, and stumbled around in a daze trying to see the number pad enough to dial 9-1-1 (not knowing what else to do). I remember standing there dialing 5-9-1, my motor skills not being what they usually are, and the next thing I know I'm waking up on the floor of my bedroom, having passed out for real this time. I spend the next two hours drinking a couple of liters of water, the chills dissipate, and I finally fall asleep. I woke up this morning with 100F fever. Hopefully it will be gone by tonight or tomorrow morning.

And a good time was not had by all.

This is probably more than you wanted to know about how to make foam puppets for use in stop-motion "foamation." Having betrayed my ignorance as to what foamation was in a previous post, I thought I'd pass along what little knowledge I have amassed on the subject over the last 10 minutes. Basically, there is a movable inner skeletal structure that is put into a clay mold and then a special foam mixture is sprayed into the mold over the skeleton. I suppose it's called a puppet since it can be moved and positioned.

Oh, and do you remember the California Raisins? (Oh, my, I might be really showing my age at this point.) Well, the same guy who did the Raisins (which was claymation) also did The PJs (previous post): Will Vinton. According to this history of Will Vinton and his animation techniques, The PJs was discontinued after three seasons (and 50 episodes...must get hands on episodes) mainly due to its low cost-ratings ratio. (On its premier night, 10 January 1999, it had more viewers than The Simpsons. But, alas, it didn't last.) Apparently, The PJs won three Emmys in its short-lived career, though they were only for voiceovers and art direction--The Simpsons was still ruling the roost as Outstanding Animated Program (except for a couple of King of the Hill and Futurama coughs in 1999 and 2002, respectively). Will Vinton Studios also did the Noid from the Dominoes commercials (still showing my age) and the M&M commercials (all of you ought to remember these).

The Simpsons and Cultural Decay

Is the popularity of The Simpsons a symptom of a general decay of culture and cultural literacy? It is an often silly, slapstick show appears to lack significant depth. It is a cartoon--certainly not the kind of medium that one would think of as a vessel of high culture. Among it's main characters are a slow-witted idiot dad, a rebellious son, a whiny liberal daughter, an incompetent police chief, and a herd of degenerate school bullies. Over the years, such a picture has certainly been given as a reason to steer clear of the show. But an essay I recently read on the use of allusion in The Simpsons makes the interesting suggestion that a deeper sign of our cultural illiteracy is the fact that many of the allusions made in the show go unnoticed by most people.

Being culturally literate--what does this mean? I take it to mean being familiar with a host of aspects of one's (and others') culture, with regard to both "high culture" and pop-culture. The Simpsons is chock full of allusions to both. In conjunction with the slapstick and often low-brow comedy of the show, there are enough cultural references to keep the ignorant and interested busy for a while. There are repeated allusions to both high art and pop-culture, to TV shows (old and new) and classic literature (old and new), to music, film, and (on occasion) paintings. I would even go so far as to say that attempting to understand the myriad allusions made in The Simpsons would take one a long way to becoming more culturally literate.

An allusion is not just a matter of getting a reference. It is also a matter of grasping the role that the reference plays in the context of its being given. In one episode, baby Maggie is put in a daycare called the "Ayn Rand School for Tots" where the headmaster is reading The Fountainhead Diet. So far, this is mainly a straightforward reference to the fact that Ayn Rand wrote a book called The Fountainhead, which is attached to the cultural phenomena of diets in our day being based on just about any outlandish thing. A diet based on Ayn Rand's philosophy? The absurdity alone is funny stuff. Where the reference goes deeper is when Maggie's pacifiers are taken away from her. (In the show, Maggie always has a pacifier in her mouth.) This isn't just funny--it is downright hilarious. In Ayn Rand's radical libertarian philosophy, the independence of the individual is stressed over all else. In her novels, she offers some very persuasive arguments against socialist and communist ideas like "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need." That unproductive individuals are parasitic upon productive ones is condoned by society is anathema to her. In the simple and almost secondary act of taking away the child's dependence on a pacifier is completely in keeping with this philosophy, but on a level that we would not expect: the children in a daycare. The tots are taught early on to fend for themselves and not depend on other people or other things.

Granted, not every episode includes such allusions and the allusions cover a whole range of cultural references, but they nevertheless occur with surprising frequency. And getting the allusions is satisfying. There is a certain pleasure not only in getting a reference but in understand the impact of that reference on the situation at hand. An allusion presents a kind of complex reference that, due to its multifaceted nature, is gratifying to recognize. There is something intellectually--perhaps humanly--delightful about it. I think this is why I also like MST3K, whose allusions cover the gamut from low- to high-culture references. There is something aesthetically beautiful and incongruous about the allusions made in these shows--allusions that often connect references and their meanings to situations that one would not normally connect them to. Hence, the incongruity. Hence, the humor. Hence, the delight.

Bigmouth strikes again: Morrissey questioned by U.S. and British intelligence.

I had no idea that under German law you could be convicted of insulting religious beliefs.

Duct tape wallet.

Study suggests technology is the biggest culprit in keeping U. S. workers from being more productive. I would love to see what sort of explanations for this the researchers would offer, if any. Years ago I once heard (on the radio) someone quip that computers were necessary for a good education. Posh. I seriously doubt that they'll make people smarter or more educated: they'll most likely just make people as smart/dumb or as educated/uneducated faster. Wendell Berry, in his 1987 essay "Why I Am Not Going To Buy A Computer," questioned whether a computer would increase the quality of his (or anybody's, for that matter) writing.

My final and perhaps mv best reason for not owning a computer is that I do not wish to fool myself. I disbelieve, and therefore strongly resent, the assertion that I or anybody else could write better or more easily with a computer than with a pencil. I do not see why I should not be as scientific about this as the next fellow: when somebody has used a computer to write work that is demonstrably better than Dante's, and when this better is demonstrably attributable to the use of a computer, then I will speak of computcr with a more respectful tone of voice, though I still will not buy one.

I think he's got a good point. Granted, the study cited above concerns the quantity rather than quality of work, but the issue is the same: does computer technology help or hinder? The speed at which one accesses information and the sheer amount of information available via computers and The Internet are selling points, but does an increase in information and the speed at which one accesses it also increase overall production or quality of work? I doubt it. It may help, and very likely does help, people who already have the skills to produce more and better work; the deciding factor, however, is not the tool but the user. This is the case with any tool, and it is no less the case with the computer.

1. There is a student who looks just like Hurley (from Lost) who has a class in my building. Every time I see him, I want so badly to say "Dude" in greeting. This morning, I could feel my vocal cords tense up in preparation as I followed him down the stairs, but, somehow, I kept quiet. Stupid social mores.

2. For some reason, in a nonspecific, amorphous way, this has seemed like a very soul-less week. It is probably so vague because I haven't thought about it properly as I should.

3. I took apart my Pyrex kitchen timer/thermometer and cleaned it so that the buttons aren't sticking any more. I use it during brewing sessions, so sticky malt stuff gets in the cracks and crevices. Now I don't have to get another one...unless I really want to.

4. Resurrected my taped episodes of The PJs, the brainchild of Eddie Murphy claymation series that premiered on FOX back in 1999. (I've also seen it touted as "a stop-motion 'foamation' series," whatever the heck that is). I'm not sure whether it's still appearing anywhere. I doubt it, since it ruffled a few PC feathers when it came out, particularly the sensitive plumage of Spike Lee, who claimed that it was demeaning to black people. This reaction really isn't all that surprising: the show is set in the projects and revolves around the lives of the black people who live there (and one Korean guy who thinks he is black). Much like The Simpsons (interestingly, Steve Tompkins of The Simpsons was a co-creator), which also garnered a similar negative reaction when it premiered, almost no topic is safe from parody. And like The Simpsons, while its characters are caricatures, and, thus, do not accurately reflect the type or class of person that the show "represents," the extreme characters act as vehicles to illuminate important cultural issues rather than ignore them--and all while having a grand ol' time. When you have the main character, a superintendent in the projects, preaching against government intrusion and a tenant Amen-ing him with "Just give me my Medicare, Medicaid, food stamps, and Social Security, and I don't need NO help from NOBODY," you've got the kind of incongruity that not only makes for good comedy but also allows the issue of asserting independence while at the same time remaining ignorant of deep-seated and accepted dependence on the very thing you want to be independent of to be broached. I thought it was a smart and riotously hilarious show. I was sorry to see it go.

5. Keep forgetting to put out a link to this hilarious Chuck Norris Facts site. (Belated thanks, Alisha.) You can even design a t-shirt with your favorite Chuck Norris fact. Genius. A couple of my favorites:

Guns don't kill people. Chuck Norris kills people.
The quickest way to a man's heart is Chuck Norris' fist.

Here is a Chuck Norris fact randomizer page. Oh, and here is what Chuck has to say about all the fuss.

6. I should go to the dentist soon. It's been a really, really, really long time.

Mortality Before The Fall

Although this is one of those enduring questions that people ask, it is not one that I have thought about that much: Would Adam and Eve would have lived forever if they had not sinned? When God commanded Adam and Eve to not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, He said that when they ate of it they "shall surely die." But when they ate of it, they didn't die--at least not on the spot. None of the curses of the fall mention death as a consequence but only pain, hard toil, and enmity. Yet, when Paul discusses the fall in Romans 5, he says that "through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all me, because all sinned" (v. 12). So, the fall resulted in some sort of death. The question is, What kind of death did it bring about? Spiritual? Physical? Both? In Romans 5, Paul is contrasting Adam and Christ.

For if by the transgression of the one, death reigned through the one, much more those who receive the abundance of the grace and of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ. So then as through one transgression there resulted condemnation to all men, even so through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men (vv. 17-18).

Do those who are justified in Christ still die a physical death? Absolutely. And yet Christ conquered death and sin, so that those who are justified in Him will yet live with Him after death. Of course, those who are not justified in Him will also live after death, but apart from Him. So what kind of death did Christ conquer? What kind of life did Christ bring?

In Lord and Servant, Michael Horton spends about a page or so discussing aspects of this issue. It is something of an aside in the book, so he doesn't spend much time on it; but I found what he says there quite instructive and interesting. One way to think about the question of whether A&E would have lived forever if they had not sinned is to consider their created nature. This is an ontological question, one concerned with the kind of being (onto- = being) with which they were created. So, if we thought of A&E being created as immortal beings, it would make sense to think of the Fall as bringing about a change in human nature, from immortal beings to mortal beings. However, if A&E were created as finite beings, then they would have died anyway whether or not they sinned.

Horton introduces another context in which to think about this. In his works Covenant and Eschatology and Lord and Servant, he is trying to work out a distinctively covenantal approach to philosophical and theological issues.

The notions of covenant and eschatology are closely intertwined in biblical theology. Both are oriented toward promise and fulfillment. Furthermore, both eschew any ontological dualism. As the covenant idea in Scripture excludes a nature-grace antithesis by emphasizing instead the ethical antithesis (sin-grace), biblical eschatology similarly concentrates its antithesis between "flesh" and "Spirit" in terms of "this present aeon [age]" and "the aeon [age] to come," respectively. It is this world in its ethical rebellion that is under divine judgment. . . . (Lord and Servant, 94)

His concern here is to introduce the ethical orientation of thinking covenantally about these things. Regarding pre-fall creation (the "nature" in the "nature-grace" antithesis), we should not see it as something whose being (think ontology here) has no purpose beyond it. That is, we should not see it as the end of God's work, even before the fall, but as a beginning with a goal-directed future. (Eschatology is concerned with "end-times" and is thus future oriented.)

Even prior to the narrative of fall and redemption, there is the narrative of cration and consummation: the goal of creation as confirmation in righteousness and participation in the everlasting shalom, God's own justice and peace. . . . [A]ccording to the biblical drama, it is not a return to Eden and a lifting of the curse that eschatology announces but a welcome into the royal sabbath of God's reign in history and nature. (80)

As Geerhardus Vos reminds us, the particular covenantal and eschatological orientation found in Scripture is thoroughly concerned with the ethical and personal sphere, not with abstract metaphysics and ontology. "The universe, as created, was only a beginning, the meaning of which was not perpetuation, but attainment." Thus eschatology is prior to soteriology: creation began with a greater destiny lying before it. (95)

Creation, even being "very good," was not the end-all but had a purpose beyond itself. The goal of creation is ethical in the sense that its purpose was to attain "the royal sabbath of God's reign," to participate "in the everlasting shalom" of God, to be "confirmed in righteousness." Horton then goes on to apply this thought to human immortality.

While human death should not be regarded merely as "a characteristic of frail, temporal creation," Moltmann is nevertheless right to point out, on the basis of God's command to be fruitful and multiply, "that human beings were mortal from the beginning". . . . [B]y recognizing that creation even before the fall was awaiting its completion under Adamic dominion, and that this consummation included the conferral of immortality. . ., death did not come as a consequence of mere human finitude nor was immortality a human possession from the beginning (especially not in virtue of the immortal soul). Immortality was a goal, not an origin; the tree of life was a prospect, not a presupposition, of human existence. Prior to the fall, Adam and Eve lived between the two trees: entering everlasting Sabbath (the blessing of the consummation) and everlasting death (the curse of sin). (95)

In the context of the goal-orientation of creation, that it "was awaiting its completion under Adamic dominion," we can understand Adam and Eve in the same way. Although created without sin, they were always capable of sin. Although death was not simply a consequence of their being finite beings, immortality was not part of their being, either. Rather, immortality was a goal toward which they were to strive, a completion that they didn't reach. They were supposed to attain the royal sabbath of God's reign, to participate in the everlasting shalom of God, and to be confirmed in righteousness. But they didn't. They fell short of this consummation. As a consequence of their ethical rebellion, they didn't attain the goal of immortality.

So, in this ethical sense, their sin brought a death that kept them from immortality. But this wasn't because their sin somehow changed their immortal nature into a mortal nature. Their nature, as is ours, was to obey God. In this way Horton is attempting to resituate our perspective, to lead us away from thinking ontologically about human immortality and towards thinking ethically/covenantally about it. Interestingly, this is also how he conceives man as the image of God:

[H]uman beings are those who reflect God's image not chiefly in who they are essentially but in how they reply ethically. Though determined as human persons by the mere fact of their creation as God's image, their realization of the purpose of their personhood depends on whether they correspond to God's intentions. (97)

So, bringing back a question asked earlier in the context of the fall, "What kind of life did Christ bring?", I think Horton would have us answer it with his eschatological and covenantal framework in mind. The life Christ brings is the life that Adam should have completed but failed to attain: obedience to God, resting in God's everlasting Sabbath, and being confirmed in righteousness. These are not ontological categories, thinking about it in terms of physical versus spiritual death/life. Rather, these are covenantal categories, for they have to do with our relationship with God; they are ethical categories, for they have to do with how we reply to that relationship.

The original question of this post was whether A&E would have lived forever if they had not sinned. It seems that Horton would answer "Yes," but not because they were immortal to begin with. Rather, it would have been because they would have attained the goal of immortality in their obedience.

Another Terrapin T-shirt

A while back, some friends and I went downtown for the premiere of Terrapin Beer Co.'s latest creation: the Wake-n-Bake Coffee Oatmeal Imperial Stout. The "Imperial" means it's a high gravity, and, therefore, higher alcohol, beer. (For those of you interested, Jittery Joe's let Terrapin's brewmaster concoct his own coffee blend for the beer. If I can scrape up the cash, I'm getting me a pound.) At the premiere, they gave out raffle tickets for every beer you bought. (I only had one ticket, mind you.) The short story is I got a long-sleeve Cream Ale shirt for free.

Saturday night Thomas, Oren, and I went downtown for some wings. Our destination was closed, but as Providence would have it ("The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps," Proverbs 16:9) we happened upon Amici, where they were running a Terrapin special (free 2006 Terrapin Beer Tour pint glass with purchase of a beer) and another raffle. So, we loaded up on wings and stout...and t-shirts! Oren and I both got one. They were also giving away black thongs with the Terrapin insignia on it. Sweet. If only I had a girlfriend...

Speaking of girlfriends, I'm gearing up for my annual Valentine's Day viewing of The Graduate. While I was getting my hair cut this evening, the ladies were discussing Valentine's Day. The woman cutting my hair noted that if her husband gets a big box of candy and some beer for Valentine's, he's a happy man. Sounds like a good plan to me.

Cheesecake update: One of the factors that contributes to Cheesecake Cracking (the attention I've been giving it deserves some capital letters) is cooking it for too long and cooling it down too quickly, both of which I am guilty. So, I tried my hand at The Perfect Cheesecake, but, alas, I have fallen short. There weren't Grand Canyon-sized (to scale, of course) fissures in this one, but it cracked nonetheless. What's more, I didn't let it cook long enough--after letting it chill for the required period, the middle is like one of those no-bake cheesecakes, all gooey. No thank you. I like my cheesecakes like I like my women: sweet and firm. (Not really...I just thought it was a good line.)

From the Kitchen of A Semi-Domesticated Bachelor

I'm ready to try out these tips for preventing cracks in cheesecakes.

(In a sudden wash of self-reflection, I wonder why the heck I am looking up anti-cheesecake-cracking tips when I should be getting ready for my classes tomorrow.)

The Grammys

Well, I didn't actually see the Awards show. I was too busy watching half of (gulp) American Idol, Lost, and (double gulp) Project Runway. I instantly feel the need to defend myself in some way or, at the very least, qualify my Wednesday night TV viewing schedule. I would not for one minute watch the first and third shows by myself. But with Thomas and Alisha and they're wise-cracking, impersonating selves, I actually look forward to Project Runway. Watching the Grammys would've been a true waste of my time. However, I did find scrolling through the nominees and winners interesting.

Best Alternative Music Album. I was glad to see that the White Stripes won. What a great album. (Am listening to it now, as a matter of fact.) Death Cab For Cutie was a nominee. Although I haven't heard the nominated album, Plans, I like Transatlanticism.

Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal. (Whew!) Vertigo is a good album, too, though I wouldn't have picked "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own" or "City of Blinding Lights" as the best songs on that album.

Best R&B Song. Okay, so how many songwriters does it take to write an R&B song? No, this isn't the beginning of a joke, but perhaps if someone were creative enough...

Best Country Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal, Best Country Instrumental Performance, Best Country Album, and Best Jazz Instrumental Solo. Good to see Alison Krauss and Sonny Rollins are still kickin' it.

Best Hawaiian Music Album. Oh, the categories they come up with! Nonetheless, I've got an album of Hawaiian slack key guitar instrumentals and it is really, really good. No kidding. Sounds a lot like Leo Kottke's guitar playing, which I love. I got the album after seeing George Winston in concert a while back, where he played a bit of slack key.

Best Contemporary Folk Album. My boy John Prine beat out those Nickel Creek youngsters. (Sorry, Mir.)

Best Musical Album For Children. Ha! Mr. Rogers speaks, or rather sings, from the grave!

Best Comedy Album. Rick Moranis (nominee) put out a comedy album?? I guess his Ghostbusters and Strange Brew money is running out...

Best Musical Show Album. Monty Python won something!! Sweet. And what's up with The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee being nominated?

Best Score Soundtrack Album. Clint Eastwood (nominee) as a composer? Hmmm, didn't see that one coming. (Though I understand he is a jazz man--not an incidental interest for his character in In The Line Of Fire, I'm sure.) He also composed the score for Mystic River.

Best Remixed Recording. Curtis Mayfield's "Superfly." What a friggin' great song.

Best Surround Sound Album. I'll have to check out the Mussourgsky pieces that got nominated. I love "Pictures At An Exhibition" and "Night on Bald Mountain." I've got an old tape with them on it. (I've also got the complete opera of "Boris Godunov," which is on the nominated album.)

Best Long Form Music Video. I wish "End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones" had won. Although who could really expect to compete with Scorsese?

Hip-Hop of Late

Don't ask me why (okay, you can if you want to), but I've been listening to the Atlanta hip-hop station on the short trips I make in my car. One of the funnier and more catchy songs I've heard is "Laffy Taffy" by D4L. "Girl shake dat laffy taffy / dat laffy taffy," etc. etc. "Girl dis ain't no dance flo' / dis a candy sto'," etc. etc. Interesting metaphor, but after reading the lyrics, it's really not as funny or innocent as I originally thought. Should've remained content in my ignorance.

Okay, I know it's been one of the warmest Januarys on record (at least for most, if not all, of the U.S.), but it seems more than a little ridiculous to see the kids on campus walking around in shorts and sandals in 45F weather. I wonder if the unseasonably warm weather will be chalked up to global warming. Hopefully they've heard that it's the jet stream's fault, not the exhaust from our cars and the mist from our hairspray.

Cheese Polymer

I went over to a Brent and Kim's house early Sunday afternoon for some quality time with them and their family and to watch the Super Bowl later. Brent and I took two of his 3 year old girls to the grocery store to pick up some goodies--which was about as entertaining as the SB! (Even during the SB, we mostly watched his three girls running around in front of the big screen singing who-knows-what about who-knows-who while his infant son tried not to get stomped on. Great fun!) Anyway, we thought we'd get some of that white queso cheese like they have in Mexican restaurants and add a little bit of chili and jalapenos to spice it up a bit. (Yes, I know 'queso' means 'cheese' in Spanish) Brent wanted to get a kind of queso different from what I usually use for the white cheese dip, so, being cheaper than what I was going to get, we got it.

Little did we know, this cheese simply refused to be cowed by either crockpot or stovetop. It had to be the most ornery and stubborn dairy product I'd ever had to deal with. I don't mind a bit anthropomorphizing that stuff--it had a mind all its own. We cut it up in big chunks (granted, in hindsight shredding would've been better), put it in the crockpot, added a little milk, and turned up the heat. It took a while to melt, but eventually it did an adequate job of making friends with the milk, although some of its more bigoted parts refused to mingle. I don't think it wanted to be tamed, for what we ended up doing is making a big, mushy-but-still-pretty-solid lump of milky stringy cheese. Seeking vengeance, it broke every chip I stuck in it. Either Brent or Matt figured out that it could be tricked by slicing the chip through it and turning the chip at the last moment to get a bit of cheese.

In a fruitless attempt to gain dominion over this part of God's creation, we put it in a pot on the stove and cranked up the heat. That only made it mad. Putting it back in the crockpot, it turned into something that you'd be more likely to patch up drywall with than eat. But, being the brave (and dense) soul that I am, I ate. I wanted desperately to fulfill the creation mandate with this persnickety piece of cheese. I ended up cutting off a big slimy chunk, into which I had to divide it further to fit on my chips. This act bravery was only met with surprise and mockery by my companions. I ate in false victory, Don Quixote stabbing at windmills. But I ate, dang it. We dubbed the windmill Cheese Polymer. Part of the plastic creation ended up in my belly, the remainder in the trash. That's where all of it should've gone.

Smoked Cheesecake

No, I didn't make a cheesecake with Gouda. It's been a while since I last made a cheesecake, and I haven't made one in the oven in my apartment, so I thought I'd give it a go. I preheat the oven and introduce the cheesecake to its new environs. After about 20 minutes, there is a little bit of a smoky smell, but I attribute it to the little bit of shredded cheese that fell to its death on the oven floor the other day. An hour later, there is an even heavier smoky smell. This shouldn't be happening. I investigate. I see some smoke coming out of one of the eyes on the stove. Not good. I open the oven door and even more smoke escapes its confines. Gee whiz, what is going on. After turning on the fan above the stove, I see a puddle of black on the bottom of the oven. What the heck? My spring form pan isn't leaking. (Yes, a spring form pan. Those pre-made graham cracker crusts are for amateurs.) At least, it's not leaking cheesecake. I decide to wait it out and shut the oven door. I walk into the living room area and there is a haze in my apartment. Oh, man, the smoke alarm will probably go off any minute now! I run over to open the sliding glass door leading to my porch and give the smoke somewhere else to go. It's friggin 40F outside, so I have to walk around in my quilted flannel coat and wool-lined slippers waiting for the smoke to dissipate! And my smoke alarm never went off--turns out the battery is dead. Well, at least it didn't set off the smoke alarm in the hallway. Evacuation of the apartment complex due to cheesecake. That would go over well, I'm sure. I just hope the cheesecake doesn't end up tasting like the bottom of my oven...

And another thing--how do I keep my cheesecake from cracking? There are some real gorges in the top of this thing. That's one thing I just haven't been able to figure out when I make cheesecakes. Nothing a little topping couldn't cover up--a good excuse to put some chocolate on it. Mmmmm!

Realization: I don't like the cheese on my sandwich to be in contact with the mustard on my sandwich.