Sunday Morning Coming Down

Oh, Easter.  You again.

Upon finding myself alone upon an Easter morning, I ask myself: what am I going to eat, and will I need to leave my apartment to eat it?  Hopefully not.  Hopefully I can find some place that is willing to deliver me a good meal so that I can spend the entire day in leggings and my ridiculously awesome slippers:

I need a quiet afternoon with my pal Harriet Beecher Stowe, so that I can mentally organize all the ways I plan to explain that she was a classist wench who didn't understand the import of her subject matter.  How's that for academic objectivity?  Compromised much?

Meanwhile, Pippin the Hamster is putting on a ridiculous show of cuteness:

See his little pink nose and balled up feet.  Aw.

And the kids up and down my street are throwing raucous parties, which involve a little too much screaming bloody murder, if you ask me.  One of these times that wolf's really gonna be there!  

Youth.  God love 'em.

And over the pleasant picture there broods a shadow: the shadow of Philadelphia.  Because in the past week everything has changed.  While I was 100% excited about teaching community college (and stand by my belief that it's a sweet gig), now I'm accepted to a PhD program at Temple University.  Great news, right?  Of course!  Philadelphia's a great place for a student of early American literature, and there are a number of good people at Temple ...

only the school is located in Northern Philadelphia, which is consistently described as "a war zone."  And Philadelphia as a whole has a terribly high crime rate.  So my excitement is slightly tempered by my fear of .. you know .. crimes against my person.  

So for that reason, and the ever present monetary monster, for at least the first year I'll be 'burbin it up, which won't be so bad.  I'll probably have a 30-60 minute train ride, but hey, a confined space where my best option is to read my books is probably a good thing.

And of course, now that I'll be in a place with actual things to do, maybe someone will come visit me!  I'm lookin' at you.  Yeah.  You.

I've been neglecting my blog, but no more!

On the docket:

Scene this Weekend: The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

And a few new ideas:

Books You've Never Heard of, But Should Really Read: Weiland by Charles Brockden Brown

Books You've Heard of and Why You Should Actually Read Them: Dracula by Bram Stoker

and 

Simplifying the Argument: a new column that takes the fluff swirling around a current topic and boils it down to two or three sentences.

Cheers, ya'll!

Irrepressible Cuteness

In light of being woken up by a roommate's medical emergency (I don't recommend it - good news, he's ok!), and coming home to find three more very thin envelopes, I divert to the only logical thing - 

A photographic revue of Pippin the Hamster* in a Pepsi box:

*Pippin is available for catalog and TV appearances at a rate exponentially related to his level of adorable on that particular day.

Cheers!

Colbert and a Hamster

So I'm sure there have been lots of comments on the internets about Stephen Colbert's interview last night (2/11) with Dr. Zimbardo from Stanford, whose new book The Lucifer Effect is an interesting study of how good people in certain situations can abuse their authority, or do things we might classify as "evil."  The title of his book is a little confusing - based on his interview with Colbert, it seems that he's not suggesting that people turn Satanic, but that Lucifer, by tempting Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, demonstrated that man was inherently susceptible to bad influences.

Or something like that.  It's hard to say because I haven't read the book, and because Zimbardo made a classic academic mistake and left off his primary material to debate something on which he could only demonstrate a tertiary knowledge.  For those who didn't see it, here's a transcript of what I think is the most interesting part of the interview, from nofactzone.net:

Zimbardo: But why does [Lucifer] disobey? Because God says, I have created this perfect creature, Adam, and everybody has to obey him. And Lucifer says, wait a minute, he’s a mortal, mortals are corruptible. We’re angels; I refuse. And that’s disobedience to authority. So the reason Lucifer — as the Devil — seduced Adam, is to say, God, I’m right, and you’re wrong. This guy is corruptible; he’s not somebody we should respect. He is just an ordinary mortal.

Stephen: But in that case, Lucifer was right.

Zimbardo: Lucifer was right, and God was wrong.

Stephen: [laughing, backing away] Okay, okay!

Zimbardo: If God was into reconciliation, He would say, I made a mistake, okay? God created Hell. Paradoxically, it was *God* who created Hell as a place to put Lucifer and the fallen angels. And had He not created Hell, then evil would not exist, so you would not –

Stephen: No, evil exists because of the disobedience of Satan. God gave Satan, the angels, and man, free will. Satan used his free will, and abused it by not obeying authority. Hell was created by Satan’s disobedience to God and his purposeful removal from God’s love. Which is what Hell is: removing yourself from God’s love. You send yourself to Hell, God does not send you there.

Zimbardo: Obviously, you learned well in Sunday School.

Stephen: I teach Sunday School, motherf*#er!

Despite the hilarity of the last line, which made me cry, just a little bit, I was very pleased to see Colbert put this guy in his place.  And not because I, too, am a Catholic, but because Zimbardo was just plain wrong, and when someone is spitting out wrongness, they should be corrected.

My experience has been that, especially in the academy, individuals who would otherwise speak very cautiously and make sure that they have their facts straight, feel no compunction about speaking about religion in an obviously uninformed manner.  In this case, Zimbardo has read way too much Milton and Christian Mythology, and not enough doctrine.  Throughout the interview, he discusses the interactions between God and Lucifer as if they are actually a part of the religious canon, rather than elements of myth and literature.

So my pride in Colbert is not that he stood up for Catholicism, or religion, but that he stood up for academic principles even when they collided with religion.  Too often, I myself have felt as if I should hold back from speaking about religion in an academic context because my classmates, peers, professors, whomever, would jump to the conclusion that I am delivering some kind of sermon.  Despite the fact that religion has been an organizing force in people's lives as real as feminism or socialism, many in the academy continue to view it as a Do Not Enter Zone - as if religion can't be discussed in a dispassionate, scholarly way just like anything else.

There have been lots of exceptions in my experience, and I hope that there continue to be more.  But the fact is that religion is not some nebulous cloud that anyone may speak about at any time without being either right or wrong.  It seems to me very similar to literary criticism - there are many, many things you can say about Uncle Tom's Cabin, but there are not infinite things you can say about it - there is a point where things become just plain inaccurate, and religion is the same way.  In the case above, Colbert called Dr. Zimbardo on his poor understanding of Christian doctrine, and I'm glad he did.

And, to close this perhaps over-serious post, I present you with a picture of my hamster:

Here in his "spaceship" demonstrating his commitment to scraping through his plastic cage.  One day, li'l guy ... one day.