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Flipping off Love, Football, and Apple Pie . . .

Valentine’s Day is a stupid extension of the Disney Princess Apostasy, yet I still want to be swept off my feet (or at least to have my feet rubbed.)  But before I get started on love, I need to vent about football.

A West Texas Youth Group Favorite: Mix 1 lb Velveeta (cut into 1" cubes) and 1 can (10 oz) Ro-Tel in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave 5 minutes.

I missed the Superbowl this year. Growing up in Texas, the Superbowl youth party was a Tradition on par with “O, For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.” The holy elements are uncontested: Velveeta and Rotel in a crock pot, little sausages in bright red barbecue sauce, and so many peanut M&M’s we’d make ourselves sick. It did not matter who was playing.  By the logic of the land: Football is Good; Bad Football is Football; hence, Bad Football is Good Football.  But this year I had a sick daughter, so I missed the Ferris Bueller car ad and all the hullaballoo surrounding the Bridgestone Half-Time Show. Read more

ALH on NC Amendment 1

I was very honored that David Crabtree asked me again to weigh in as an LGBTQ ally.  I had read over some of Rev. Wooden’s previous interviews, and I decided ahead of time not to enter a theological or scriptural debate on the issue.  It seemed to me that we were likely to end up with a Bible Boy/Gospel Girl face-off, and Gospel Girls rarely win that way.  Some readers may be disappointed with this decision, but, well . . . remember the gender and race dynamics of even the supposedly “New South” and think through how you would have had me engage instead.  This is all just really, really tricky, dear people, and what we truly need is the kind of sustained, long term solidarity-building conversations that come only with effort, patience, trust, tacos, and pecan pie.  On a totally frivolous note, I am wearing the blouse I bought for my (failed, thank God) interview for the senior ethics post at Yale.  Only it used to be white, and I wore it then with a boring, blue pinstripe suit (snore, but, hey, it was Yale, after all).  I accidentally spilled food down it at some point, and decided this summer to dye it bright fuchsia.  I think it looks much better this way!

Just Say No to Professor Pinker and (shudder) President Gingrich

Texas didn’t make it into the top ten listing of “conservative” states, according to the latest Gallup poll.  I am not sure what to make of this read on the land of my childhood.  I am, frankly, completely baffled by what “conservative” means these days.  Corey Robin has a new book I need to read that will likely help.  But, in the meantime, I am paying particular attention to the rhetoric around “progress” and “technology” in this Republican primary season.  This makes for some whacky reading, as Newt Gingrich seems to match dear old Gene Roddenberry in his unbridled faith in technology to make our world a shiny, happy place.  (Or should I say to make the solar system a shiny, happy set of places?)  When Gingrich starts in about colonizing the moon, for instance, he seems less “conservative” and more, well . . . “progressive,” only we don’t usually use that word for someone who also wants to teach impoverished children a lesson by making them clean toilets.  Yet there are some time-worn, icky connections between faith in scientific progress and disdain for people who seem not to progress.

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