Theology That Bites Back
Introduction: By now many of you have heard that J.D. Greer, president of the Southern Baptist Convention, caused something of a stir a few days ago when in a podcast he urged Christians to lean toward “pronoun hospitality” in their dealings with those in the trans world who have been taught to demand that the …
Introduction: I took my troubles down to Madame RuthYou know that gypsy with the gold-capped toothShe's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and VineSelling little bottles of REZ ZO LOOO TION number nine. ...
“He had not managed to see Robert P. Warner—who was still asleep, exhausted as he was from a late night of blogging about the loneliness of urban angst as recorded by French filmmakers, subtitling their angst like crazy, although the existential anguish was redeemed and ameliorated somewhat by plenty of full French frontal nudity, which he felt translated well without the subtitles, as least for him—but Peaborne had obtained a brief audience with Mystic Union.”
Introduction: So Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and perhaps you will be seated next to a garrulous and somewhat combative uncle, a man who drinks in his opinions at MoveOn.org, and who has voted for Bernie more than once. He lives in Massachusetts and really likes the way things are going out there. Thanksgivings in Arkansas are …
“Mystic Union held out because while she, the former Mrs. Winmore, had a set of unique and murky perspectives on the care and treatment of virtually every ailment, not to mention almost total confusion with regard to the appropriate laws of inference, almost to the point of thinking that wet streets cause rain, this did not obscure her clear-sighted view of the main chance, and her clear knowledge that she currently had a shot at the main chance. She was dedicated to the proposition that Robert P. Warner had a winning lottery ticket in his clammy little hand, and she was resolved to hold the other hand encouragingly. And occasionally to pat it while giving sound, strategic advice.”
Letter to the Editor: When I read your post “Idiocracy,” the first person to pop into my mind was Bart Ehrman. Maybe it was his recent discussion with Peter Williams that brought ...
“‘I am an easygoing man,’ he once told Cindi. ‘I take things in stride. I try to exhibit the fruit of the Spirit. I don’t fluster really. So why does this woman make me want to jump up and down on the hassock here, yelling and waving the remote?’ Cindi had been unsympathetic to his dilemma. ‘Because you watch the news on Channel 4? Instead of switching it?’”
Introduction: Way back in the early eighties it was, and I read a book by Reagan’s treasury secretary, a gent named William Simon. The book was called Time for Truth, and somewhere in the course ...
[He] “discovered in the process that Robert, in addition to his prowess in allegations of wrongdoing when it came to inappropriate touching by pastors, was also a true pasty blogger poet with greasy brown hair hanging in the eyes just right, and a sleepy look that suggested profundity more than bewilderment. Which just goes to show.”
