Tuesday, July 07, 2009


Erudite Redneck, B.S., B.S., M.A., (M.T.S.)

Just tryin' it on. Oldtimers around here, both of you, will recall that the original name of this place was "Erudite Redneck, B.S., B.S., (M.A.)," then it was "Erudite Redneck, B.S., B.S., M.A." after I finished the M.A.

Just tryin' it on. ...


It fits. I had a friend in seminary who said that for every degree you get, the next level you should get two. He had one HS, two bachelors, and was starting a law degree and a D. Min. after seminary.
Was that sposed to be BS?
I mean, the HS ...
It's just a wild-assed dream. ... This whole damned thing might be a cosmic bait-and-switch to test me.
"... our embrace of the transience of life is the most important step we take in the embrace of uncertainty... let us not forget... our faces are sacred; our brief pilgrimage is an astonishment..."

Trepidation is a natural fear of being embraced.

Being embraced is a threat to be known. And no one really wants our current shit to be known.

(psst.... hey, it's already known by the God of uncertainty!)

C.S. Lewis once said that a life in faith means that nothing is certain, but everything is safe.

That's all I got.
My goal has been to have more letters behind my name than in it. If I don't count my middle name, then I'll have achieved the goal with my Ph.D. If I count my middle name I'll have to get an M.Div. to do it. :)
Re, "a life in faith means that nothing is certain, but everything is safe."

He shoots, he scores -- again. Thanks, Feodor.

Alan: That is a major hoot. Using my short-form nickname, I'd be there plus one with an M.T.S.!
But, ya know, I'm thinking an M.T.S. might not fit. Might be too big. Maybe a "C.T.S," a Certificate of Theological Studies, with classes geared toward church history, if they'd let me. The certificate is 18 hours. That, I can see. The M.T.S. is 48, which is ... gaaaaah. ... The M.Div is 87 hours, which si just plumb wack!
Those 87 hours go by quick though, because you have so much dang fun while you're doing in ...
Eeek. So, I make a few trips to Tulsa, read some books, write some papers -- and BOOM! I'm 50!

Un. Cool.

Ya dadgum whippersnapper.

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