Wheels-Off Poll for Week of 21 Jun

Hilarious Facts About DTS #2: The Seriousness Factor.

This column should not be laughed at. It is not funny. Don’t even smile. This is serious business. 

DTS students are a serious lot. It is not abundantly evident why this would be—although I will advance a couple of theories toward the end of this piece—but it is nonetheless true. If you were to gather all of the world’s CEO’s in one room—pre-TARP, when they were still expected to actually perform serious work  in the private sector in exchange for previously-agreed-upon compensation—and put your Seriousness Meter to work on the atmosphere in that room, it would not approach half of the level of seriousness in a DTS classroom. These cats are serious. Seriously. 

Some have argued that the Seriousness issue gets exacerbated during the first semester at seminary. The majority of DTS students, for example, didn’t get the normal undergraduate education—they went to Bible College, where they deftly avoided any semblances of a classical education.  So when that seminary professor expects them to read a whole book—from start to finish!—there is a certain stress level that is achieved. The phenomenon is so common that it has its own nickname on campus: “syllabus shock.” The average seminary student has to read several hundred pages of non-fiction text in each class, and it apparently is the first time such demands have been made upon them. When they click open the hyperlink on their Macs to read the syllabus reading list, many of them develop heart palpitations. The familiar taut-skinned, vaguely panicked facial expressions begin to take shape during this first semester. But one needs only to study the Serious DTS Student for a moment to realize that this affliction started long before he matriculated to graduate school. 

The first thing an observer might notice about the Serious DTS student is that he doesn’t laugh.  Jesus, after all, is just not funny. The Bible isn’t funny. Historical Theology isn’t funny. The Patristic Fathers weren’t laughing about Arianism; what’s there to laugh about now? I can assure you, gentle reader, that if Moe, Larry and Curly were to appear in front of a gaggle of DTS students, no amount of “nyuk nyuk nyuk” or “why soitenly!” would be enough to elicit even a subconscious giggle from this crowd. In fact, within moments of the Stooges’ appearance in a DTS classroom, a discussion forum would have been set up online to discuss the ramifications of Moe’s clearly Rehoboam-esque approach to leadership over the other two Stooges in a pre-Barthian framework of Jewish ethno-comical stereotypes. One student would argue that Curly’s response to Moe’s eye-poke reflected an Arminian self-determinist response to God’s predestination that his eye get poked. Another student would get his feathers ruffled by this, and would vehemently and passionately argue that this interpretation unnecessarily relied upon a Curly-As-Allegory view, which would be unscriptural. The battle lines would be drawn, and eventually there would be entire Facebook arguments with 3,157 comments chipping in about this topic. 

Even when the most hallowed of professors cracks wise in class, the average DTS student will appear unsteady on his feet, as though he’s not quite sure how to react. Do I laugh? Even a fake laugh? Wouldn’t that be like lying? Would I have to share that with my accountability partner? Was that not meant to be funny? Did Dr. Hendricks repeat that line in his book? WWCSD (What Would Chuck Swindoll Do)?

One half-expects the student’s head to begin swiveling uncontrollably, with sparks flying from the circuits which have shorted out above the skull. And heaven help the non-fabled professor who isn’t a household name—and still tries to be funny. If he isn’t sufficiently hyper-literalist and supralapsarian in his humor, he will most definitely find his name in an online discussion board calling for his ouster. 

Jokes? Nothing—even though most of them will derive their political sensibilities from Jon Stewart before the evening is finished. 

Impressions? Crickets. This writer has personally seen drill sergeants laugh at impressions that would render the DTS student stone-faced.

One-liners? Forget it. If it was meant to be funny, God would have put it in the New Testament. In the original Greek, of course. The Nestle 2^nd Edition—not that pretender Thayer. I know those clowns over at Criswell try to parse the 2^nd aorist active indicative in the new school manner, but we do things old-school here. Oh, yeah? Well, perhaps your God humor would be more understandable if it were derived from a more socially relevant rendering of the text. And so forth. 

These cats don’t laugh. Ever. 

Why, you ask, would this be? I would like to advance two theories here: 

Theory One: Fear. Plain and simple, many DTS students are just afraid. For one thing, DTS is a confessional institution, which means you have to be in agreement with the doctrine and practice of the seminary. Horror stories abound like viruses about students who deviated a fraction from the 7-plank stance—and were summarily dismissed within 12 hours and escorted off campus by officious-looking DTS campus police, their mailboxes reassigned before they stepped off the curb. DTS students are a little afraid of this, and think if they find the wrong thing funny they’ll get the axe. There is also a fear of failure. After all, the average DTS student has just spent four years avoiding literature like Dickens, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Ovid, Faulkner, Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, and William Carlos Williams. That stuff, after all, is godless and therefore irrelevant. If it’s not in the Bible, or not written by Swindoll, or not otherwise a non-fiction work generated by a fellow seminarian, then it’s not worth reading. Now, suddenly, professors are expecting them to read a lot more. Ok, not exactly a LOT more….and it’s still 99% non-fiction (that way no one has to deal with any pesky allegories or symbolism or metaphors)…but it’s enough of a jump to instill actual panic in the heart of the average Bible College grad whose definition of a reading assignment was the complete collection of Jack Chick tracts. When such a student is suddenly on the campus of a world-famous seminary, and the world-famous professors are asking them to read books—books!—it can lead to momentary cardiac arrest for some of them. 

Probably the biggest fear of the average DTS student, however, is the Fear That Remains Unmentioned—the fear that he will not sufficiently distinguish himself to the extent that he can become the pastor of a large, trendy, urban megachurch immediately following graduation. He has spent years fantasizing about how he is going to revolutionize the church culture world with his Facebooking and blogging and Twittering and catchy videos and edgy worship, and if he’s not on the top of the heap he won’t get those interviews. There is, statistically, the possibility that he will have to be a small church pastor. This is akin, in the DTS student consciousness, to Dante’s Seventh Circle of Hell. 

Theory Two: the average DTS student is just really tightly wound. The average age of a DTS student is around 24, but they all look about 36—with the stress lines around the eyes and mouth, the hunched-over posture, the beaten-down expression and the slow zombie walk of the damned. If anything goes awry at all in their carefully planned-out existences, there is the danger of flipping a cog. If a professor seems to deviate from the Six Literal Days motif, the average DTS student could well have a heart palpitation. If a book written before 1970 is assigned, or if a paper must be written that is greater than two pages, a minor stroke could occur. It simply may not be reasonable to assume that this condition is a function of seminary at all, but rather was pre-existing. Perhaps they are always serious—even at home. Perhaps when watching Jon Stewart at night, they don’t laugh then, either. Perhaps their girlfriends and spouses keep a sizable supply of anti-constipation medication handy for evenings with Super Seminarian. If this theory is correct, it might also be advisable to keep some blood pressure medication around, as well. 

It is unclear whether or not DTS itself is aware of the Seriousness Factor. First-semester students are frequently called into the counseling center to give account of a heightened score on the MMPI—but apparently only the laughers are called in. The MMPI doesn’t appear to focus on the Seriousness Factor.

This Hilarious Fact about DTS is bound to only get funnier, especially when a DTS student finally realizes that God has a sense of humor (just read the story of how God heard Sarah laughing at His promise and instructed her to name her son “laughter.” That’s GOLD). 

If the gentle reader has enough DTS Facebook friends, there is one hilarious experiment that he may perform for his own amusement. Post any random thought on Facebook—about sports, politics, life, or even fire ants—and sit back and watch the show begin. But if you’re going to laugh within earshot of the DTS student, make sure you do so in allegory form—that way he won’t understand it and be offended at your lack of Seriousness.

The Pussification of the American Male

I recently watched a Presidential debate on tv.  CNN (you know, the Castro News Network) made sure to throw the obligatory bone to the Facebook-and-Twitter crowd, thereby adding to the lack of dignity and general discombobulatory feel to the proceeding, but the candidates themselves seemed much stronger than the media had heretofore portrayed them (big surprise there). However, the stupidest moments of the debate were easily the pop culture questions that John King asked the candidates. And the most disconcerting moment of all came with his question to Newt Gingrich—a former Speaker of the House of Representatives and a candidate for President of the United States: “American Idol or Dancing With The Stars?”

Really? 

Unfortunately for Newt, he answered the question. That’s sad, because until that moment I had seen him as a candidate with some intellectual heft. But acquiescing to the inane question merely highlighted what might be the most significant cultural problem facing America today: the pussification of the American male. 

I know that a lot of feelings are going to be hurt in this column, and that actually underscores my premise. There was a time that men acted like men, and if you got your little pumpkin feelings hurt by a column you’d have been told to check downstairs to make sure you had all your equipment. But those days appear to be gone—at least for the moment. And perhaps, for our younger male readers, a little history lesson is in order, so that we may all understand how we got here. 

It all began with the militant feminist movement of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. The ultimate objective of the movement was to re-engineer the normalized gender roles that had been prevalent throughout the history of civilization. A much wiser observer than I once remarked that “feminism was invented to give ugly women access to the mainstream of America.” Interesting observation. Most of the culture rejected militant feminism, and all of its asinine arguments. But by the 1980’s, when I was in high school, you could see the Politically Correct movement gaining steam. I can remember being told that we should stop saying “retarded,” and start saying “mentally challenged.” And other such schlock. The men who actually fell in line with this sort of thinking were generally sneered at by the rest of civilization, and eventually Newsweek even ran a cover with a picture of a random man in flannel shirt with the tag line: “Where Are The Real Men?” So the nags had eliminated men, then whined about the absence of men. Those of us who watched this farce made a mental note to never change a single thing about ourselves in some misguided attempt to curry favor with the nags—and the PC movement was relegated to graduate school classrooms where it belonged. 

But apparently it caught on with Millennials. 

The Gentle and Sensitive Man archetype has now become quite commonplace, particularly among the young. It is positively amazing to a Gen-Xer like me to note that it wasn’t that long ago that this sort of fellow would have been taken out behind the football field house and pummeled about the head, shoulders, and clavicle region. Now he appears in magazines and on billboards as The Man To Be. I can remember when a man would choose beer over wine. Torque over gas mileage.  A 1967 GTO over a Prius. A house over an apartment. A burger over arugula. He mowed his own lawn, rather than hiring a lawn service. He changed his own oil and tires, and had a can of Goop beside the outdoor water spigot to clean the grease off his hands when finished. You might see him in blue jeans and a t-shirt driving a truck or a hot rod, but you would never see him wearing Speedos and a safety helmet, riding a ten-speed. The question you asked that man was “Ginger or Mary Ann?” NOT “American Idol or Dancing With The Stars?” If you happened to be a wine-sipping, Whole Foods-shopping, Volkswagen-driving pantywaist, you called him “Sir” and ardently hoped he wouldn’t step on you as he walked past. 

But one quick perusal of the clothing section of any store catering to “men” of a certain age will show you how far we’ve fallen. Let’s examine how today’s young man looks when he leaves his upstairs flat:

Yes, you, too, can feel sensitive and enlightened with these breezy pastel plaid shorts. You can accessorize your ensemble with the iPod buds, disheveled undershirt and zip-up hoodie. The ladies’ sunglasses are sold separately, but are a must for summer fashion.

This bright and airy yellow v-neck sweater fits snugly over a dress oxford shirt to give you that I’m-Sitting-With-The-Band-Geeks look.

Nothing says “I don’t have a penis!” quite as efficiently as flip-flops. Impress the Millennial ladies today with yours! If you act now, you can order the special rhinestone-studded flip-flops to go with your oversized ladies’ sunglasses.

Ah, yes….the cuffed designer shorts, v-neck sweater, cloth knapsack to carry his bean sprouts home from Whole Foods, and hipster glasses. What lady wouldn’t be mesmerized by this lad’s sensitivity?

It’s not the Millennials’ fault; they’ve clearly been misled by some of their chosen cultural leaders. Consider the ramifications of what happens when famous men set the example of douchery:

Plaid shorts? Check! Ladies’ double-notch cloth belt? Check! Tattoos that you thought might make you look tough, but really just look like every other sensitive boy? Check! Bonus points for being a soccer player….mmmm…..dreamy…..

It’s not enough to vote Democratic…one must also dress the part. With his pastel shirts and pink and yellow ties, Anthony Weiner shows us all why it became necessary to actually prove to the ladies that he was, indeed, a man….

I have many friends and acquaintances who had the bad judgment to be born in the younger generation, so I’m going to help you cats out with some free advice from a Man who was raised by another Man:

Rule #1: if you can’t imagine that article of clothing being worn by John Wayne, do not purchase it.

What? you ask. Who’s John Wayne? That’s actually part of the problem here. Many of you just weren’t raised right.

But you don’t have to just narrow it down to one man—although John Wayne is the quintessential symbol of American masculinity. I’ll broaden it: if you can’t picture Charles Bronson wearing it, you shouldn’t wear it. If you can’t picture Chuck Norris sporting those shades, you shouldn’t be, either. If you can’t see Lee Marvin traipsing into the fresh produce aisle in plaid shorts and flip-flops, listening to the Black-Eyed Peas, then you should stay away from that, too. If James Arness wouldn’t have been caught dead in a pink tie, then you shouldn’t either.

But, you sensitively ask, those guys are, like, old. Why can’t we update it to some action stars from my generation?  Shouldn’t we keep it, like, relevant?

The answer is NO. Let us compare and contrast: 

• Your action stars shave their chests and wear Toms shoes. Charles Bronson killed people.·        

•  Your action stars dress as though they are thinking seriously of performing a sex act on another man. Lee Marvin whipped the Dirty Dozen into shape in order that they might kill many Nazis inside the palace.

• Your action stars tweet and twitter their every illiterate thought. If Chuck Norris wants you to know what he is thinking, he’ll roundhouse kick that thought into your head.

• Your action stars drive tricked-out Hyundais with big, gay spoilers on the back. Steve McQueen drove a Mustang GT in Bullitt—and was racing away from a Dodge Charger 440.

Yesterday’s Man, without even consciously thinking about it, exuded Masculinity. Your male action stars appear to be attracted to other male action stars. Look to an earlier generation for male guidance, young Jedis, or you’ll all end up being the princesses you already look like.

If it had been me running for President instead of Newt Gingrich, and John King had asked me that question, I would have answered thusly:

“Smooth out your skirt, John, and listen up. I wouldn’t watch either one of those retarded shows. I TiVo’d the The Magnificent Seven and watched it for the twelfth time. Now go fix me a Scotch or I’ll have to come down there and give you a wedgie in front of Anderson Cooper. That is all.”