Here are some of my favorite Instagram photos. Yes, I took these. No, you cannot use these photos without permission. Yes, you can enjoy them.
What a silly question, right? I mean, come on, who doesn’t like Classics and Football?! Well, good on you, because I have some information you’ll be glad to read!
So for those who aren’t aware, Rutgers is responsible for collegiate football. Seriously, look it up. And something else you might not know: Rutgers’ first football team was made up predominantly of Classics majors!
Rutgers’ new student paper, the Daily Targum, had the good sense to show up to report on the game, which they did in astonishing detail that has often been reprinted. See here for an excellent summary (with lots of great images) from the RU Athletics website.
Unlike Princeton, Rutgers also kept a good record of its student-athletes who showed up to play that November day—27 for RU in all.
Now, a glance at the academic rolls shows that all but five of those 27 players were taking the rigorous Rutgers Classics Curriculum. The best student among them was probably the team captain, William James Leggett, Class of 1872. Before graduating, he won prizes in Latin as well as mathematics and declamation. Amazingly, he was also Targum editor, director of the baseball team, and captain and stroke of the RU crew.
But three of the members of the team were flunking freshman algebra, and one of them—Classics student William McKee ’73—had a string of absences in the week leading up the game, which the faculty marked as “excused” after the Rutgers victory.
With thanks to Professor Brennan on bringing this to my attention. Rutgers, Football, and Classics: a winning combination in my book and, as it so happens to turn out, Rutgers beat Princeton that game.
Here are my minimalist heroes, friends, and colleagues in Amsterdam proving once again that reception is everything.
Here is my re-imagining of the event:
George Athas perceptively remarks: “Minimalistically, there is no bread, no wine, and fewer disciples than we thought. And come to think of it, it isn’t even clear whether we have a Jesus or not.”
Brilliant! H/T Jim West.
About this time last year I participated in an online survey for SBL concerning self-publishing and e-publishing. I was unaware until recently that last year I had won a random prize for being a part of that survey (as do the most neurotic among us, I Googled my name in the SBL search function and found the notification). And what was that prize? $50 in SBL books! And they just arrived today! Here is what I received:
Looking forward to delving into these soon.
Poor Jim. Doesn’t he know? It is between two teams in my opinion. But unlike Jim who sticks to arbitrary choosing or the Ukrainians who are using animals, I have a sure-fire method of predicting to whom it will all boil down.
The two teams most likely to make it to the finals (and one of which will likely win) are Italy or Portugal. Hands down, all other teams should just pack it up now. You’re not going to make it.
Why? First Portugal. Many know I’ve lived in Portugal for short time. But many might not know I was there for Euro 2004, when Portugal defied the odds and made it all the way into the Final against Greece. Plus (and do I really need to say it?) they have one of the best soccer players in the world: Cristiano Ronaldo. I know the strength of the teams convictions, they have a lot of heart, and I think that goes a long way.
Then there is Italy. Okay, I have a bias here as an Italian. And granted there was that whole new scandal that has reflected quite poorly upon the clubs. But let’s face it, Italy is still a force with which to reckon. And the players are amazing. Most are taken from top Serie A clubs, like Juventus, AC Milan, AS Roma. and Palermo. Many of these clubs have done well in the Champions League (if only AC Milan had beat Arsenal!) and I am confident they will do well in Euro 2012.
Mark Goodacre just last night posted up an image of a stain on the side of one of the Ossuaries of the Patio Tomb (Talpiot B). Here it is:
Frankly, I disagree. I think it is the Colonel, fearless in pose; a prophecy from beyond that he would make some of the most scrumptious chicken ever. He also appeared on the Lead Codices:
And for comparison:
I don’t know why he always appears on sensationalized objects, but then again he always was a great businessman. He knew how to sell a concept. This might be why he is appearing on these otherwise fake or greatly exaggerated objects.
Bob Cargill, in his usual way, has informed the Biblioblog community of yet another dilettante making absurd claims by abusing ancient texts and the field of history. In light of this and recent shows like Ancient Aliens, I have decided to start my own claim: ancient Roman cinematographers.
It’s just that easy to misuse our primary sources and eisegete meanings out of context to prove anything. And what better than prove that an ancient class of people was dedicated to filming events using camera technology?
Just look at the arch of Titus for example:
I have marked these odd objects which I have chosen not to investigate in their historical context with red boxes. These look remarkably similar to cameras on tripods:
Clearly these bizarre objects being carried by Roman solders are archaeological evidence of movie cameras on tripods recording the looting of the second Jewish temple. I’m sure then that if they had these large cameras on tripods, they must have had smaller hand-held cameras for detailed video-recording in tight locations. I imagine it looked something like this:
And if I take enough ancient primary writings out of context and their socio-cultural milieux, I can prove beyond any doubt (at least, as far as I’m concerned) that there is literary evidence of cameras as well:
A wooden base is constructed, and on it is set an altar-shaped box made of bronze. Uprights, fastened together like ladders, are set up on the base, to the right and to the left (of the altar). They hold the bronze pump-cylinders, the moveable bottoms of which, carefully turned on a lathe, have iron elbows fastened to their centres and jointed to levers, and are wrapped in fleeces of wool. (Vitruvius Pollio, The Ten Books on Architecture 10.8)
Sounds like an ancient camera and camera stand to me! Of course I don’t care about context. It took minutes and minutes of research (re: Google searching ancient texts for key words that fit the general description for which I was looking) but I believe I can finally label myself an expert on ancient practices of cinematography. I need a catchy title like the ‘shroudologists’ have (those who are ‘experts’ on the Shroud of Turin). Maybe ‘Archeo-Cinematologist’!
Now don’t bother asking me for any more evidence since I’ve supplied it all and I shall eagerly expect payment for a book deal and a promotion campaign and, hopefully, a concept script for a History Channel special. Because history is only here for people to make money off the ignorance of others, right?