I don’t know about you guys, but I think that is far funnier than David After Dentist. I mean, the girl raps about Jesus. And speaks in a British accent. And talks about unicorns flying her to magical lands. Almost makes me want to get some teeth pulled.
The Prada wearing Pope is now doing what so many young stars are doing today– he’s recording an album. No word yet on whether there will be collaborations with T-Pain, Ne-Yo, Rhianna or Carlos Santana, or if it’s produced by Timbaland, but definitely be ready for some hymns and prayers to the Virgin Mary. From the story on MSNBC:
The pontiff’s as-yet-untitled album also includes eight original pieces of contemporary classical music, Geffen/Universal said.
The pope is accompanied by the Choir of the Philharmonic Academy of Rome, recorded in St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. The original compositions are performed by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, recorded at London’s Abbey Road studios.
So maybe I poked fun at this (all in good fun, I promise), but unlike the musical efforts of Paris Hilton, the proceeds from PB XVI’s album are going to a good cause. They will be used to bring the joy of music to underprivileged children around the world. I can get behind that.
Of all the ridiculous things I’ve read today, this trumps them all.
Poor Tyler Frost. All the senior in high school wanted to do was escort his lady love to her sinful, pagan public school prom and maybe move in sync to the musical stylings of Taylor Swift, and whatever Godless slow-jam-last-dance song those high school kids are listening to these days. And his school suspended him.
That’s because Tyler’s school, Heritage Christian School in Ohio, forbids dancing, rock music, and fun. IT’S JUST LIKE THE MOVIE FOOTLOOSE! It doesn’t specifically say fun, but whatev. Might as well. But you know, there are other reasons as well. Here is part of the statement from the school’s principal, Tim England:
In the Old Testament, Joseph was in a place of temptation and he fled. Unlike this situation, he didn’t put himself in that place. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Keep your heart with all diligence for out of it are the issues of life.” II Timothy 2:22 says, “Flee also youthful lusts but follow after righteousness faith charity and peace with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart.” When the school committee, many years before I became the principal, set up the policy regarding dancing, I am confident that they had the principle of fleeing lustful situations in mind. The question as I see it is, should a Christian place themselves at an event where young ladies will have low cut dresses and be dancing in them? Isn’t it contrary to the example of Joseph and the verses that I stated?
I did some research and came across Friendlyatheist.com, which fights Bible fire with Bible fire. Thanks for providing us with the verse, FriendlyAtheist!
Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 (King James Version)
1To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
All sassiness aside, I think there’s something deeper here. Dance, whether Mr. England chooses to acknowledge it or not, is embedded in the history of humanity. As cliche as it is, people use dance to express themselves. People dance at weddings– Christian weddings– to celebrate and show joy. Little children dance (read= jump up and down and wave their arms) when they’re happy, and they just don’t know why. In fact, there’s a budding genre of dance called Liturgical dance. It’s a prayer in the form of dance. Some people find dance so beautiful and spiritual that they use it as a way to praise the Lord.
Taking away dance is denying an important act of humanity. Not that I, nor anyone else, should speak for the big guy upstairs, but I don’t think punishing someone for being human is what was intended.
Tyler and his stepfather, Stephan Johnson, went on CBS’ “The Early Show” this morning. Watch that. He said he doesn’t regret going to the prom. I sure hope not. I hope that he is allowed to walk at his graduation this year. And when he does, I hope he dances on stage.
And now, a song that I dedicate to dear Tyler. I hope you dance, dude.
There’s a new anti-gay marriage ad out there, and it is terrifying.
I’m not scared of the storm. I’m scared of NOM. I’m scared of their bad actors (and they are actors. See their audition reels here. Thanks, QT!). I’m scared of their bad writing (ex- “There’s a storm gathering. The clouds are dark, and the wind is strong. And I am afraid.” You are afraid of weddings? Seriously?). But most of all, I’m scared of their message of hate and discrimination.
You know what I think of when I think of NOM?
A lot less scary than some crap a dark storm and a bunch of lies (click that link and read what HRC says.), don’t you think?
Yesterday I ushered for a play at the newly renovated Ford’s Theatre (which, according to the website, creepily markets itself as the “House Where Lincoln Died”). The play was called “The Heavens Are Hung in Black,” and was about Lincoln’s life from around when his son Will died until the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation. I did a great job as an usher, taking people to the wrong side of the balcony and acting as though I knew all sorts of cool facts about the Theatre. The best part of the experience, though, was that I realized that Abe Lincoln and I are soulmates. We’re basically the same person.
The evidence? He’s awkwardly tall and gangly. So I am. (I don’t have Marfan Syndrome but whatever.) He loves beards, and so do I. In the play, he makes a comment about falling asleep at the theater as I was falling asleep at the theater. He’s a bad dancer. I am too. He loves nightgowns; I’m wearing one right now. He cries a lot, and I totally cry like once a day.
The point is: I would have made a killer Mrs. Lincoln, and it’s simply too bad that Honest Abe and I weren’t around in the same century to have a passionate love affair and very, very tall children.
…then you saw the 12 uniformed officers escorting the 14 Gainesville players off the field and two and two started to make four. They lined the players up in groups of five—handcuffs ready in their back pockets—and marched them to the team bus. That’s because Gainesville is a maximum-security correctional facility 75 miles north of Dallas. Every game it plays is on the road.
This all started when Faith’s head coach, Kris Hogan, wanted to do something kind for the Gainesville team. Faith had never played Gainesville, but he already knew the score. After all, Faith was 7-2 going into the game, Gainesville 0-8 with 2 TDs all year. Faith has 70 kids, 11 coaches, the latest equipment and involved parents. Gainesville has a lot of kids with convictions for drugs, assault and robbery—many of whose families had disowned them—wearing seven-year-old shoulder pads and ancient helmets.
So Hogan had this idea. What if half of our fans—for one night only—cheered for the other team? He sent out an email asking the Faithful to do just that. “Here’s the message I want you to send:” Hogan wrote. “You are just as valuable as any other person on planet Earth.”
Some people were naturally confused. One Faith player walked into Hogan’s office and asked, “Coach, why are we doing this?”
Thanks to our South American correspondent for the tip.
Office parties, neighborhood parties, family parties. Eggnog, champagne, whiskey (for the family parties), wine. In the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s the opportunities to be hungover grow exponentially. If I remember my pre-calculus correctly (and there’s a good chance that I don’t) the graphical representation of what we’re now experiencing ends up looking something like this:
It’s a rough six weeks. Luckily, National Geographic would like to help. They have kindly gathered information about “Hangover Helpers” from around the globe. So if the Gatorade and Smartfood just aren’t cutting it you can try Romania’s recommendation and eat some tripe soup, because nothing says “anti-nausea” like a healthy serving of cow stomach. In Poland they recommend drinking soured milk or very sour pickle juice. I can’t imagine that that does anything other than make you vomit and if that’s the case, I’d rather take care of that Blair Waldorf style. In Japan, they eat pickled plums to cure “futsuka yoi” or, “two days drunk” and in Mexico the drug of choice is a nice shrimp cocktail or seafood salad (the real kind, not the first-grader version). The salad is appropriately named “Vuelva a la vida” or “return to life.”
My favorite “cure” is probably that found in the Netherlands: a big, tall glass of cold beer. Although it’s usually hard to imagine drinking anything alcoholic when you wake up in the morning feeling like your head is on backwards, in my family we favor a little Irish Coffee to settle the stomach or, on really bad days, straight shots of Jameson, and it seems to do the trick (I wasn’t kidding when I mentioned that we’re a walking stereotype).
No matter your potion of choice, party on! There are tons of antidotes to experiment with and you have plenty of opportunities to do so! Plus, it’s Christmas and nothing says “praise be to the Lord, Jesus Christ” like too many glasses of eggnog.
I’ve never had any trouble believing in Santa but for the Scrooges out there Larry Silverberg, a professor of mechanical and aerospace engineering at North Carolina State University, has conducted some research to further explain Santa’s magic. His Christmas-spirit-lacking conclusion? Advanced nanotechnology and an exploitation of the time space continuum help to explain some of Santa’s powers.
Silverberg says that Santa is exploiting the time space continuum when he makes his Christmas Eve voyage around the world. A Christmas Eve voyage that actually lasts SIX Santa months. Pardonnez moi?
“He understands that space stretches, he understands that you can stretch time, compress space and therefore he can, in a sense, actually have six Santa months to deliver the presents,” Silverberg told Reuters.
“In our reference frame it appears as though he does it in the wink of an eye and in fact there have been sightings of Santa, quick sightings, and that’s in our reference frame, but in Santa’s reference frame he really has six months”.
I suppose that makes it a little easier to believe (that is, if you didn’t already) that Santa can visit 200 million homes in just one night. Silverberg said his research also indicates that Santa doesn’t carry all of the toys in his sleigh. Instead, he grows the presents under the tree using nanotechnology or, more specifically, he turns irreversible therm0-dynamic properties into reversible ones to turn soot, candy and other natural materials into the presents. Maybe that’s why we’re supposed to leave cookies for Santa. Not because he’s so hungry (although now that we know it actually takes him six months the cookies make a little more sense) but because he uses them to grow our presents!
Some of Silverberg’s other research on Santa indicates that to determine whose naughty or nice, Santa uses giant antennas; the sleigh also has a GPS system of sorts and the reindeer are “genetically bred to fly, balance on rooftops and see in the dark.”
I still think Santa’s sleigh is fueled by Christmas Spirit and my biggest question remains, how does Santa eat all of those cookies and still fit through the chimneys? Also, where does he vacation after Christmas? I’d like to go there and buy him a drink.
If you’re still not convinced (you lousy non-believer, you) check out this picture from Iwasabducted.com (a truly reliable source if ever there was one) of an unidentified flying object that looks eerily similar to Santa’s sleigh.