"We didn't win the national championship, but we did play pick-up ball with Barack Obama--and that's something!" said UNC junior Tyler Hansbrough, who decided to return for his senior season after a pep talk by the presidential hopeful. "Now we're holding our heads high again."

"I will reform NCAA basketball in the state of North Carolina!" said Obama, who was greeted by wild applause after he guaranteed that UNC would win the national championship if he was elected.

The second-loudest ovation came during the pick-up game when Obama drove toward the basket, evaded a half-hearted block attempt by Hansbrough--and almost scored.

Photo property of Scout.com.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

"...let me remind you that last week a man objected to the way I wear my clothes and, yeah--today he's lying in a shallow grave."

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

This just in: The new director of The Hobbit film, Guillermo del Toro is not a big fan of heroic fantasy in general and J.R.R. Tolkien's books in particular. FilmChat quotes a piece by Andrew O'Hehir:

First of all, hasn't anybody noticed that del Toro has repeatedly said he doesn't like Tolkien, and that he never finished reading "The Lord of the Rings"? Here's what he told me in Cannes in 2006, when I asked him about the influence of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis on his own work: "I was never into heroic fantasy. At all. I don't like little guys and dragons, hairy feet, hobbits -- I've never been into that at all. I don't like sword and sorcery, I hate all that stuff."

Let's see, he doesn't like "little guys and dragons" or hairy-footed hobbits, and "The Hobbit" would be a movie about what, exactly? Seriously, I think del Toro was speaking from the heart, and I think he's right. His aesthetic is darker, more Gothic and more grotesque than the Tolkien-via-Jackson universe; it derives more from the medieval mire of middle-European fairy tale than from the high-toned, pre-modern northern European epics Tolkien was channeling. . .

Hmmm. You think this could be a problem? Can we take the man outside now and plaster him with rotten pipe tobacco? Good thing Peter Jackson is involved--I have the impression that he appreciates Tolkien's genius.

Photo lifted from FilmChat.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Lindsay and her mom were loading Aidan into his car seat when he paused as if he wanted to start a conversation and said, with emphasis, "OH. MY. GOSH!"

Quick reaction from "Mimi":

"No, don't say that. Where did you hear that? Who says that?"
Aidan: "Papa say, 'Oh. My. Gosh!'"
Mimi: "Well, he shouldn't."

Grandpa was in some hot water, but with that little mystery solved, Lindsay ran back inside to retrieve something she'd forgotten, this being a predictable trait of attractive women--they forget things. But the show was just getting started. Aidan leaned back in his car seat, crossed one leg over the other, and preceded to inform his grandma about the profane state of the world.

"Papa say 'Oh my gosh!'"
"Mimi say, 'Dadgummit!'"
"Mommy say, 'Darn it!'"
"Daddy say, 'Crap!'"

Daddy say "Wow." As Lindsay later commented, "Shaming, but oh-so hilarious." There was only one thing to do in response to Aidan's devastating opening round of infant espionage. We paid him off with a gummy worm, and decided to immediately go public with to remove any opportunity for further extortion.

Honesty is the best policy.

And of this moment, for as long as we breath, we will never, ever cuss again for the rest of our lives. Ever. Not even with made-up cuss words that sound shocking even though they don't mean anything. Nope, our cussing days are over. Done, finis, like Missouri's Final Four appearances.

Unless we stub our toe really, really hard...

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

We've discovered the secret of talisman of family unity, which had lain hidden for centuries until a friend gave Lindsay a cryptic, scribbled message on an index card and she realized its true worth. Are you braced for a shocking disclosure which could alter the course of your whole family life? You are? OK then.

Guacamole.

I'm serious.

Buy the fresh avocados, tomatoes, and limes, and mix them together with the help of spicy spices and a blunt object, using a recipe that has been personally written down for you by a person of Mexican descent. As the process unfolds, open a large bag of salty tortilla chips--and then watch as your family crowds into the kitchen, jocular, interested, and ready to help make sandwiches and chat about their inner secrets in a bubbly, enthusiastic way. In other words, make that guacamole and watch as life happens around the bowl.

Go do it now. You can thank me later, and if this tip restores your sense of communal family living, we can discuss various forms of recompense.

Full disclosure: The guacamole pictured above isn't ours, although it shares the same smooth green suaveness and air of confidence. But to show you our guacamole, which is mostly gone anyway, would have required the whole digital photo upload rigmarole. I would have had to ask Aidan to juggle the guacamole or have Lindsay do some kind of exotic guacamole dance to justify that kind of effort.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Aidan was wandering around the kitchen nonchalantly, every so often jumping up to try and grab a box of "bee cereal" (Honeynut Cheerios) off the counter at the apex of his two inch vertical. Eventually he asked me,

"Are you hungry?"

Since Aidan phrases his requests obliquely in the second-person, I said,

"Are you hungry?"

Aidan got the hint, and returned,

"I am hungry!"
Me: "Would you like some bread?"
Aidan: "No, bread too spicy."
Me: "That's a good one. How about an apple or banana?"
Aidan: "Apple or banana...or dinosaur."

So I pulled a small, frozen pterodactly out of the freezer and nuked it for him. They're good with tarter sauce and fresh lemon. And apparently 'dactyl is less spicy than bread, who knew it?

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

I just wrote one of the fluffiest of fluffy papers. Sat down and cracked it out like a whiz-bang, squinty-eyed, detached professional essay writer. Give me my $15.

It doesn't make me feel good to do this, but it does feel good to have it done. At times like this, I blame the paper and the assignment that spawned it. If you give a professional chef a bag of marshmallows to work with, this is what you get.

Imagine that I wanted to say,

I read the darn book,

but I typed,

With sincere pleasure I meditatively devoured the latest missive from the brilliant author like a starving jeweler in a gold mine, looking for nuggets of wisdom with which to supplement my pyrite-infested display case.

Bloated marshmallows of sentences are littering my word processor.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

You wouldn't believe the coordination it took to swing Aidan and Asher while simultaneously taking their picture. Afterwards I just slumped in the grass and watched my shadow running laps around me trying to catch up.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

And he is Guillermo del Toro (Hellboy, Pan's Labyrinth), a proven genius with a tendency toward darker films. Peter Jackson, of course, is producing. WETA workshop in tow.

J.R.R. Tolkien's Hobbit is the most light-hearted of his Middle Earth fiction. I'm wondering if that more boisterous, children's book-feel will be maintained with Guillermo del Toro at the helm. If I had to guess, I'd predict toward a more epic, less frivolous Hobbit.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Over the centuries, about a bajillion historians and Christians have coveted the experience enjoyed by guys like Peter, James, John, and the other disciples of Christ--but talking shop with Jesus back in Palestine would have been a mixed blessing. You probably don't believe me, so to prevent you from bailing too quickly, try this argument on for size: My wife agrees with me.

How 'bout them apples? Shall we continue now?

Lindsay actually provoked this post. While reading the gospel of Mark, she suggested that spending time with the real, flesh-and-blood Son of God would have had some disadvantages. That made me pause for a second, but my wife is far too long-suffering to be a heretic, so I played along. And here's where it got me.

Consider: When you're around Jesus, watching him heal and listening in on his parable workshops, imagine the magnetism. God in human form must have had a dizzying, mysterious quality, must have been a riveting hidden picture book of a man. You would stare and stare and never get to the bottom of him.

The disciples didn't have a complete handle on it until he was gone, but Jesus' perfection must have had a hypnotic fascination for those who observed him. No wonder his disciples followed him around like little kids or friendly dogs. There was something about him that didn't fit the contours of a normal human, as if his edges were blurry like a woven skater shirt or like the circumference of the sun, too bright to make out.

The disciples stared, trying to understand why their eyes kept tricking him, why the outline of Christ's life didn't resolve itself into a recognizable pattern. Surely he was a prophet, or if not a prophet, a rabbi, or if not a rabbi, a political Messiah. But no, the legendary Jewish archetypes didn't fit...

This must have been maddening, as there was only one of Jesus and multitudes of bewildered, staring people, trying to pin him down with their glances, trying to guess what his game was, trying to find his depth--and there was only so much elbow room to go around. Most of them gave up on Jesus because he was too hard to sort. Too complex, too demanding. If "normal people" couldn't figure his gig, he could be up to no good.

We grow to know Jesus, year after year, as he changes us from the inside out. And I suspect that this is a more steady, less infuriating process than what the people had in Palestine.

In purely physical and historical terms, you know how the story ended. People who make no sense to their shallow constituency typically get the axe. But fortunately for us, the mystery surrounding Jesus' personality has changed somewhat. Not so much in its essential, perplexing allure, but in our proximity to it. And the fact of Christ's physical murder and subsequent resurrection was what changed our role from spectators to participants.

When Jesus returned to Heaven, to the dimension that surrounds and holds ours up, he sent his Spirit, invisible but strong, to empower us. Jesus the man doesn't walk the earth these days but we have the Spirit of Jesus. This Spirit lives inside each of his people, making Christ gradually explicable as he teaches via transformed lives. He reveals himself to us as he mends and heals us, and this is what the church calls sanctification. We grow to know Jesus, year after year, as he changes us from the inside out. And I suspect that this is a more steady, less infuriating process than what the people had in Palestine.

The question is how we'll approach this offer of inner-circle discipleship. The person of Jesus is still this magnetic riddle, this mystery of embodied divinity. Once brushed up against, his is a personality that calls for response. There are at least three ways we can respond to Jesus, I think.

We can come to him like the political power-mongers of his day, fascinated and enraged, like moths to light. We can come like the bored crowds, hungry for food and a spectacle, like brats to a carnival. Or we can come like those who were badly off and knew it, afraid but hopeful, like infants about to walk.

Only the last group will enjoy the acquaintance, because, as the disciples discovered, to know Jesus and enjoy the benefits is life-consuming. Anything less is merely crumbs and ashes. But to know him, encounter him as he really is? In the biblical language, that's Thanksgiving and Christmas and the Fountain of Youth. That's really living. That's what we were all made for.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Memphis should have known that when they were up 9 with 2:12 left in the NCAA Championship game, the lead was only 23% safe. Slate Magazine's Bill James, who just happens to be a long-time Jayhawk fan, explains how to tell when an NCAA game is truly over.

I wonder if he was kicked back with his ankles crossed sipping a cold one when the Jayhawks came roaring back.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

The UNews of of the University of Missouri-Kansas City recently reviewed four local coffee shops, a couple of which I haven't been to before. Fortunately, it sounds like I'm not missing much. As you'd expect if you live in Kansas City, the Roasterie Cafe won the highest marks. Against competition like that, the other contestants didn't stand a chance.

However, that relates somewhat to the selected field, which was pretty weak. I'm wondering why the UNews writer didn't visit The Filling Station (they need a good website) or The Broadway Cafe, both of which are with a mile or so of the campus, and both of which can give the Roasterie Cafe a run for its money.

Do I need to point out that all the top cafes around Kansas City are local, as opposed to being national chains? Didn't think so.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Disney's released a new trailer for the upcoming Prince Caspian movie. From the looks of this footage, the new film will be darker, more violent, and more "serious"--as befits the Prince Caspian book, a war-like saga and coming-of-age story.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

There have been some quiet days around here recently because I've been creating a new site for my freelance copywriting business, Words w/ Verve.

The site is now up and running, and I'm happy enough with the way it looks to make it public. Improvements include the online portfolio and extended "About" page.

Feel free to send traffic and referrals my way, I've got student loans to pay off!

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

A friend sent us these pictures, which I can't help posting, despite the pain they could conceivably inflict upon some unfortunate fellow bloggers. That NCAA Championship Trophy is good for at least one more fling. These date from the day of the Jayhawk Victory Parade about a week ago...just rock chalk them up to childish exuberance.

Downtown Lawrence, Kansas
























Downtown Columbia, Missouri

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Currently in beta is BookLamp--a "Pandora for books."

If you 1) like reading, and, 2) are familiar with Pandora, this can only be good news.

Main gist: BookLamp will recommend new titles to you based on algorithms that crunch your current favorites to compile their shared qualities. Or something. Don't ask me to elaborate on the technical details.

The site is currently in development, but you can head over to sign up (free) and get an early look at the thing of beauty that BookLamp could eventually be.

HT: Six O'Clock Vintage

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

From that bastion of political incorrectness, Stuff White People Like:

White people will often say they are “spiritual” but not religious. Which usually means that they will believe any religion that doesn’t involve Jesus.

Popular choices include Buddhism, Hinduism, Kabbalah and, to a lesser extent, Scientology. A few even dip into Islam, but it’s much more rare since you have to give stuff up and actually go to Mosque.

Mostly they are into religion that fits really well into their homes or wardrobe and doesn’t require them to do very much.

Pretty good read, I'd say. Although for this post you could probably remove "white" from the title.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

It just so happens that although I've read all of Mark Driscoll's published work, this is the first book I've actually reviewed. So in writing this, I have a sense of backstory that I'll try to convey briefly.

People tend to assess Driscoll in one of a handful of ways: Mark Driscoll the shock jock Reformed dude, Mark Driscoll the rock star church planter, Mark Driscoll the tough pastor-theologian with a big heart.

While I can understand the various other responses, I've come to see Driscoll as primarily occupying that last category. Yeah, he's bombastic at times. Yeah, he's doing all he can to usher out the suit-and-tie era of pastoring, bringing grungy back. But for me, Driscoll needs to be understood in the context of his love for Seattle, his passion for the Bible, and his remarkable ability to explain the relationship between biblical theology and contemporary culture.

If you read that last sentence and thought, "I didn't know they were related," then you may be about to grasp the value of Driscoll's role.

Along these lines, Vintage Jesus is an excellent book and it actually makes sense that it's earned eclectic accolades from the likes of university professors, record company owners, and mixed martial arts fighters. Vintage Jesus is a very accessible introduction to the theological category of Christology, a biblical understanding of who Jesus is.

Driscoll presents the goods by asking blunt leading questions and following up with responses that are framed by cultural references and are right on the mark in terms of orthodox Christian belief. He is aided by co-author Gerry Breshears (blog), a professor at Western Seminary who supplies supplementary Q&A after each chapter. Breshears is an accomplished theologian, and also does a respectable job "keeping up" with Driscoll as he builds tough, clear arguments and drops references to Jack Bauer, Star Wars, and chili con carne, occasionally ripping on guys like Dan Brown in the process.

By way of qualification, let me add that Vintage Jesus is not an apologetic work, is not presented as such, and thus doesn't address basic postmodern questions like Why trust the Bible? Does God even exist? Why is "your" truth exclusive? (For concerns like this, see Tim Keller's The Reason for God.) Also, Driscoll's love for written stand-up comedy sometimes fails to blend seamlessly with his theological writing. Occasionally I had the sense that theologian-Driscoll was playing tag team with Chris Rock-Driscoll, and the book's style isn't completely uniform as a result. However, these are minor gripes.

Clearly, Driscoll is setting out to popularize theology, and he's uniquely qualified for the task. People who would never crack a tome by renowned scholars like Ajith Fernando (The Supremacy of Christ) and John Stott (The Cross of Christ) may give Vintage Jesus a shot--a book rife with red neck jokes, sarcastic one-liners, and impassioned descriptions of Jesus' glory, goodness, and ability to change lives.

*** If you can handle Mark Driscoll's love for sarcasm and his rough and tumble style, I recommend Vintage Jesus highly. If you're looking for a better handle on what Jesus was all about and why it matters, you may want to grab this title. I award it three stars--don't miss it.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

I love paper and have a nostalgic longing for the days when professors would sacrifice some section of a tree, probably a small branch, to print out syllabi for all the students and give them out in class. Or better yet, when full-color copies of class notes were produced.

Now we're expected to have accessed the syllabus online and printed off our own copies (killing trees anyway), which involves so much extracurricular effort that half the class doesn't know what's going on for the first several weeks of the semester.

There was supposed to be these happy vibes of green good feeling that washed over us when we started making efforts to go paperless, and I'm just not feeling them.

On the day I finally have a home office, I will put paper on the walls. A calendar, marked up with multicolored inks. Sports pages from March 2008. Procedural diagrams I frequently refer to, like how to plant and cultivate churches and coffee beans.

And I'll revel in the sheer, historical paperfluity of it.

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

Aidan was struck by the suspicion, sudden and momentarily troubling: "What if these shoes aren't as cool as I think they are?"

Like what you read? Don't forget to bookmark this post or subscribe to the feed.

New Death Cab for Cutie Tracks

This worked out well.

Days after linking an article by Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard and mentioning the new album, Narrow Stairs, I stumbled across a couple tracks from the album.

"Pity and Fear" (downloadable) - the rhythm section is like nothing I've heard from Death Cab before. I like it.
"I Will Possess Your Heart" (play only) - at eight minutes, this one's a marathon, and it doesn't quite stack up to the previous 7:55 masterpiece, "Atlanticism."

Pre-release thoughts on the new album/sound?