Farts and Letters 101

Usually I suck at titles, but every once in a while the blind squirrel stumbles upon a nut. “Farts and Letters” is a winner for three reasons:

1) I will rarely have time to document my thoughts electronically on this blog, but the topics I want to cover when I do are so diverse that it would take a title of near-genius to capture these thoughts while maintaining unity. “Farts and Letters” is such a title. We will be best served if we consider the title metaphorically. The farts will represent all content that is insignificant, irreverent, or disturbing (yet relatively benign). For example, I might reflect upon something idiotic I overheard in a lift line at a ski resort. I might comment on a new beer and what my design-minded wife thought of its label. This sort of minutiae is usually inconsequential in the long run, and like a fart, it is ephemeral in nature, dissipating with the briefest of breezes.

Let the “Letters” represent all that I feel is of further, and perhaps lasting significance. First and foremost, that which is of a spiritual nature (the attributes of God, the nature of man, etc.) would fall under the “letters” category. Additionally, much of what I’ll post (which won’t be much) will pertain to education in its various forms (including birth of, evolution of, growing pains, expiration of, etc.) So, basically, anything I feel like blogging about will be tagged under either “Farts” of “Letters.” Sort of like a Roman Numeral one and two. And, these Roman Numerals go together because… 

2)They’re part of a pun. As in, “The College of Arts and Letters will be holding their graduation ceremony on Sunday at 11AM.” I will admit it’s pretty lame of me to give my blog a cheesy pun name and then pedantically go about explaining how it’s a pun. 

3)The pun actually captures how I feel about one particular component of the pun. Much of what I have encountered in my educational experience, particularly that of higher education, stinks. Post-modernism/make your own meaning/teachers don’t have to be experts in the subject they teach/teachers shouldn’t be “sages on the stages,” they should be “guides on the sides”/deconstructing texts/the author is dead so intent doesn’t matter/the portrayal of critical thinking and factual knowledge as mutually exclusive/poo-poo literature written by dead white males (as if their deadness, whiteness, and maleness fundamentally damages the value of the work of literature, and I thought the author was dead?),etc–I find it all to be quite stinky.

So I’ll write about punk rock shows, pale ales, snowboarding, hiking, funny things I saw at the gym, cool clothes, pictures and furniture, whatever gets the farts flowing. And I’ll blog about education, teachers, politics and policy, my sure-to-be adventures as simultaneous grad student and 8th grade English teacher, faith, facts, and maybe my family (my brother has an enormous chin, and is becoming an exceptional snowboarder).

Welcome to FARTS AND LETTERS!