Way too much work to do to really write a good post. Enjoy this video in the meantime.

Quick update

Had a phone conversation with the aforementioned professor I would like to study with at a fine institution of higher learning that shall remain nameless so I can claim that it was wherever I end up. It went well, if not smashingly. I remain encouraged, and yet more prepared for a letdown.

No classes next week, thanks to the American Academy of Religion meeting in DC. That means more reading and a second date with the GRE. Go crazy folks. Go crazy.

Butch Davis will leave UNC for a better football program. This I know. Where will he go? Will UNC become Texas' AAA club, much like Kansas is for us in basketball?

With the first day of truly shitty weather in the Bay Area now upon us (mid-50's and a nice, blowing sneeze from God), it is now officially higher-proof whiskey season. My beer selections will be getting darker as well. I like rainy days. Adam Duritz lives in my neighborhood, you know, 'round here.

What a week.

When last we spoke, it was Monday, and I was being very quiet about my hopes for Tuesday. Well, they were all pretty much realized. I now look forward with a modicum of optimism and a whole lot of cynicism. None the less, seeing Macacawitz concede in VA, and having it specially set aside as the official end of the battle was beautiful.

Today, I emailed a man I've never known, in hopes that he has some interest in taking me on as a doctoral student. I'll be doing this a lot in the coming weeks. I'd like to go on record as stating that applying to doctoral programs in a field not covered by U.S. News & World Report, et. al (read: a field that won't put you in line for Bush's tax cut) is an experience that will keep you constantly regular. You have to pretty much shoot your qualifications off into the void, in hopes that someone will at least read them. Nonetheless, my advisor and other faculty here are being very helpful, and are rooting for me, which boosts confidence. Spontaneous offers of recommendation letters are the best affirmation a graduate school boy could get. Reminders that Duke is sooo close to home are not helpful.

Thesis research is progressing. Currently on the table is a collection of works by Octavio Paz. There are worse things to have to read for research. I'll get to them soon.

Bay Area professional sports franchises are joining the rest of the business in showing little regard for their fans, though it is in their interest to head for the South Bay if they want to jack up ticket prices. Silicon Valley folk will pay a premium for anything if you tell them it makes them special. At times like this, I am proud that UNC owns the Dean Dome, built it with private money, and is extremely unlikely to move the team to Burlington if Chapel Hill won't shell out for a new building that will generate no additional revenue.


Thanksgiving is around the corner; possibly my favorite holiday. Tons of food, highlighted by a smoked/grilled turkey, plenty of alcohol, a football game, and a righteous nap make for a fine way to spend a day. It's a great way to commemorate the false harmony between Europeans and Native Americans.

Dancing about Architecture

Keith Jarrett's The Carnegie Hall Concert is an amazing recording. One man, one piano, and he improvises for over an hour, before being called out for 5 encores by the crowd. It was his first US solo concert in a decade, due to a struggle with chronic fatigue syndrome. When Keith Jarrett improvises, it's not seemingly random notes strewn in a structureless void. He lays out beautiful music. This is a fantastic release.

In the spirit of Big Country, I have decided to list my 5 favorite Grateful Dead tunes. It's my blog. No rankings assigned.

Scarlet Begonias > Fire on The Mountain: This counts as one because the Dead, with only a couple of exceptions, always segued from the former to the latter after '77. Any of the versions in my collection brighten my day. 2/5/1978 is a barnburner.

Dark Star: Quintessential Grateful Dead, played hundreds of times over their career, different every time. Dark Star is to the Dead as IPA's are to beer; you might have to work up to it, but then it's the best thing in the world. Current favorite is 11/11/1973. Subject to change.

Ripple: Just a great song. It's become somewhat cliche over time, but it may be the best piece of songwriting in the Dead songbook. The version on "Reckoning" is nice; this song was really only played on the two tours that featured acoustic sets, so there's not a lot to choose from, but this one from Fall 1980, when great people were born, is really good.

Eyes of the World: I love the jazzy feel of this song and the lyrics that no one knows the meaning of but everyone understands, and I love where the Dead took it. The version from 3/29/1990 with Branford Marsalis is so good it's not worth writing about.

Stella Blue: Clearly Jerry loved to play this song. Sweet lyrics with an even sweeter tune, beautiful solo from Jerry. The version from the Grateful Dead Movie (10/17/1974) always seems to sneak up on me. Sometimes the room gets a little dusty.

Honorable mentions go to Morning Dew (my favorite song about the apocalypse) and Sugar Magnolia (the best song ever about an enabler... "Wonderful Tonight" is dreck). Sugar Magnolia is the only song on this list sung by Bob Weir. Go figure...

We're gonna re-elect the Kindergarten Cop to the governorship of the most populous state in the union tomorrow. Once the results go final, look for Phil Angelides, the Invisible Democrat, on a cockpunch list near you.

I wrote a research paper on megachurches last year, and Ted Haggard was one of the primary subjects. Harpers ran an article a couple of years ago about his rising influence among evangelicals, suggesting that he had surpassed James Dobson, Brother Pat, and Jerry Falwell. He's a ridiculously effective pastor, and talked on the phone with the President or his advisors on a weekly basis. I'd put him on the cockpunch list, but really, who could take the irony? Oops.