Here is a study by the Tom Loveless of The Brookings Institute that suggests tracking students (at least in Math) increases their performance.
Which schools track and which do not? The evidence reported here indicates that urban schools serving mostly poor children are more likely to have diminished or abolished tracking while suburban schools serving children from more prosperous backgrounds are more apt to have retained it, despite pressure from “experts” and ideologues to do away with it.
This is a point worth pausing over. Schools that eliminated or reduced curricular tracking thought they were doing this to benefit needy and minority kids. They succumbed to the accusation that they and their evil old tracking policies had been complicit in harming such youngsters.
Loveless calls School Choice and differentiated instruction the "New Tracking":
Ask teachers if differentiation is a worthwhile use of students’ time and most will enthusiastically agree, even though they have little time themselves to craft such lessons and not all of them can pull it off. Still, differentiation is one of today’s politically-acceptable alternatives to tracking
I came across this word when reading up on Julien Donkey-Boy, a film which adheres to the Danish Dogme 95 rules for film-making. The second of the Dogme 95 rules, according to Wikipedia, states,
The sound must never be produced apart from the images or vice versa. Music must not be used unless it occurs within the scene being filmed, i.e., diegetic.
Diegesis (Greek `to narrate') and mimesis (Greek `imitation' or `to copy') have been contrasted since Plato's and Aristotle's times. Mimesisshows rather than tells, by means of action that is enacted. Diegesis, however, is the telling of the story by a narrator. The narrator may speak as a particular character or may be the invisible narrator or even the all-knowing narrator who speaks from above in the form of commenting on the action or the characters.
Diegesis can also refer to the fictional world of the story, the "space" which characters inhabit both within and outside of the action of the story. This makes me wonder, is there any world, in fiction, that is not diegetic?
The word's opposite, mimesis, seems more familiar. Mimes, after all "act out" their stories.
I just finished watching Kirby Dick's 2006 documentary, This Film Is Not Yet Rated, which is available for streaming through Netflix. I recommend it wholeheartedly.
It has become apparent to me that my assessment of social documentaries rests at least partially in their ability to really tick me off about something. Dick's movie is truly successful in that right. His target: the Motion Picture Association of America, and indirectly, the "big six" film studios in Hollywood, and of course their parent conglomerates (many of which I already hated, for other reasons).
For those who don't knows, the MPAA is the organization responsible for the rating system in place for movies. If a movie is rated, either G, PG, PG-13, R, or NC-17, it has been viewed and assessed by the MPAA. And it's basically a cabal.
First of all, the MPAA does not release the names of the members of the ratings board. This is, ostensibly, in an attempt to prevent the members from undue political and economic pressures. However, the senior members of this ratings board meet regularly with the heads of the major motion picture companies. So really the MPAA doesn't want their members feeling any pressure except the pressure of the people who write the checks. And regardless of the perceived risk
This becomes all too clear when Matt Stone discusses the differences in his experiences making Orgasmo, which he and Trey Parker funded entirely independently, and the South Park movie, which was produced by Paramount Pictures. Both films initially received an NC-17 rating (this is the kiss of death for a film which hopes to be seen in a major theater). When asked how the films could be fixed to receive an R-rating, the MPAA provided zero guidance for Orgasmo, but gave specific notes for the Studio-backed film.
Furthermore, there is no set of standards which the MPAA follows in making their decisions, and this leads clearly to personal biases. Dick clearly demonstrates the Association's tolerance for violence over sexuality and for heterosexuality over homosexuality.
A major part of the film involves Dick's hiring of a private investigator to discover the names of the members of the MPAA. It turns out that what information the MPAA does release about its ratings board (that it is a crossection of America, that it comprised of sensible but disinterested parents of young children) are false.
Some of the greatest moments come late in the film, when Dick sends an early version of the film to the MPAA for a ratings assessment. Of course, the film receives a rating of NC-17. The opening credits to This Film is Not Yet Rated comprises a montage of many of the scenes that the interviewed filmmakers (including Darren Aronofsky, Kevin Smith, and John Waters) had to cut to earn their movies a "distributable" rating. Dick appeals the rating, and gives us a description (filming is not allowed) of the appeals process, which is even more heavily cloaked in secrecy than the original process.
Those members of the MPAA appeals board that Dick succeeds in identifying are all board members for either motion picture companies or large theater chains.
This is just disgraceful. I am sympathetic to the necessity for some form of rating system. This is important with regards to children, and even adults should have a means of filtering their exposure to 'questionable' material. (My wife would be mighty upset if she went to see a light comedy that ended up being a horror film.) However, the MPAA rating system is nigh-on useless. An 'R' rating tells you almost nothing about the film itself. Is it 'R' like The Hangover, or is it 'R' like Saw?
Furthermore, I find it extremely troubling that their are laws in place restricting entry to these movies based on a system that is entirely undemocratic, to say nothing of it being a capitalistic monopoly. I might be reluctant to take my son to an independent film that is rated NC-17, but the fact that I am prohibited from doing so smacks of censorship. State sanctioned, corporate controlled.
Yesterday, the high school hosted its annual pre-prom Don't Drink and Drive program for the student body. Last year's program was a refreshing change of pace: the usual scared-straight videos and parent-style lecture was replaced by a heartfelt discussion by a young man who had been paralyzed by a drunk driver, aided (because he could not, in fact, speak) by his loving mother.
This year, no such luck. Bill Richardson, a former Gwinnett County police officer, came to give his presentation about, purportedly, teens and alcohol and driving. The presentation is part of Mr. Richardson's It Won't Happen To Me campaign to reduce the number of teen deaths resulting from car accidents. (Reported accurately by Bill as "the leading cause of death among teens today".) The program was mostly what you might expect: Bill spent a long time lecturing the kids things they should already know. A lot of dontdothises and dontdothats intermingled with graphic video clips of some real car accident tragedies and even more reenacted car accident tragedies.
The worst of these videos can be seen below. It should be noted that the students had seen before during an entirely separate "don't text and drive" program delivered as part of our school-wide Advisement program.
A couple of things stand out to me about this program, and this video in particular.
First of all, don't we all know by now that Scared Straight doesn't work? Taking young toughs to the jailhouse in the hopes of frightening them away from crime forever only ends up teaching them new and more troublesome ways to look and act tough. Likewise, when the students see tragedy in a movie, they are inclined to think of it as just that: a movie. It is clear from the first moments of the above film that it is a reenactment -- a fiction. We are conditioned to percieve this distinction, even when it does not exist: on the big screen, even true events seem "unreal." It seems like creating this sort of separation between viewer and event makes more, not less, likely an attitude of indifference or insusceptibility.
That it doesn't work, to me, seems a good thing, and we should immediately turn to different methods. This sort of pathetic appeal (pun intended) is precisely the argumentative style we should be teaching kids to recognize and reject. If we learn anything from the current state of world politics, it must be that fleeting, gut-reaction emotional response should be -- indeed, must be -- no basis for the formation of opinions and plans of action. In fact, it seems like this sort of emotional conditioning might very well lead to an increase in poor decision making. If I base my negative reaction to drunk driving on my gut reaction while viewing a disturbing video, I may just as likely base my positive reaction to drunk driving on my gut reaction while totally wasted and trying to impress a girl or seem tough or save face.
Furthermore, if your intention is to persuade kids not to drink and drive, it is advisable to stay on message. Pick your battles. This program is given 3 days before prom for a reason. Mr. Richardson lost sight of the immediate goal, and a lot of his time (and mine -- this was during my planning period) could have been saved if someone had simply told him that the texting thing had been done. That what we are really worried about is drinking. Prom is right around the corner, after all.
But Bill didn't stop there. And this is what really gets me. At some point he made the leap to eating and driving, as well. He implored the students not to eat their chicken biscuits behind the wheel.
This all reminds me of the numerous Don't Do Drugs programs that I experienced as a child. Aside from the failed reasoning behind a "just say no" philosophy (an issue I explore in some depth in an earlier post), drug use prevention programs always take one too many steps. As a child, I am with you for don't do heroin, don't do cocaine, don't do marijuana -- especially if you show me some scary pictures or bring in a convict to prove the dangers. Adding cigarettes and alcohol to the mix, though, starts to muddy the waters. After all, my dad drinks alcohol. My grandfather smokes. What gives?
The program they gave my fifth grade year also went further: caffeine is a drug.
This sort of divergence from a central theme seems to risk a complete loss of effectiveness. After all, once a Georgia-born, Coca-Cola-raised raised fifth grader hears you say that he shouldn't drink caffeine, you are finished. He no longer hears a word you say, and there is a good chance that whatever you said before has also been tossed out. You have become an unreliable source. Your credibility is shot.
Ever thus to Bill and his chicken biscuits.
The real reason for this post, though, is less a polemic than a curiosity.
You see, Bill Richardson started his program by saying, "we all have said 'It won't happen to me' before, and it's important to remember that it can happen to you." Which got me thinking: nobody ever says "It won't happen to me." In fact, the very idea of anyone saying such strikes me immediately as ridiculous.
A discussion which uses "It Won't Happen To Me" as its jumping-off point surrounds nearly every great social ill of the last 20 years. Alcohol and drug addiction, domestic violence, AIDS, even diabetes: all seem at least in part to be caused by some uninformed person saying "It Won't Happen To Me" just before partaking in some ill-advised risk behavior which leads to their inevitable ruin. The following hypothetical conversations illustrate the point:
TODD (Slamming his 14th brewski): Well, I'm bored of this party. I'm leaving. Anybody need a ride? SUE (Concerned): Todd, you're drunk! Don't you know that driving under the influence is the leading cause of death in teens? TODD (Climbing into his hatchback): Yeah, but it won't happen to me.
TODD (Flexing his biceps): Well, it's Friday. I am going out to have anonymous unprotected sex with multiple partners. STU: (Stepping from the kitchen): Todd, be careful. AIDS can affect anyone. If you are going to choose to have sex out of wedlock, you should really wear a condom. TODD (Checking his high-top fade in the mirror): Nah. It won't happen to me.
Now, I understand what these activists are aiming at when they use "It Won't Happen To Me" to start their spiel. They are not referring to an actual spoken phrase, but are rather making reference to an assumed mindset that we share before we make decisions which are statistically inadvisable. They hope that by facing the mindset beforehand we can avoid it when faced with a real situation. As I said with regards to D.A.R.E., context-free, all-or-nothing social practice is at least pointless and ineffective, at worst damaging in itself. We cannot hope -- nor should we -- that something as complex and nuanced as peer group sociology and adolescent psychology can be reduced to a set of predesignated rules and regulations. To do so is at once irresponsible and unimaginative.
"It Won't Happen To Me" is a false construct. It doesn't actually exist, in our minds or elsewhere, when we are in the midst of making a crucial decision. Or, if it does exist, it is a spontaneous generation of our psyche which likely gets much more positive reinforcement than negative. When we get in the car, even entirely sober, and face the chance of being hit by another driver. When we place our money in the bank, despite the fact that banks can collapse. When we get our hair died, knowing that many dye-jobs turn out just horribly. When we squeeze again into our skinny jeans and confront the risk of an embarrassing rip. In each of these situations, undoubtedly, we must also say to ourselves, "It Won't Happen To Me." And inevitably, more often than not, we are right.
This is an email response I wrote to a friend who recently forwarded me some chain letter about the "dangers" of Neale Walsh's book, Conversations with God. The chain letter can be read here. I have, in the interest of my friend, omitted her introductory text, though I quote enough for you to get the idea. In case you are getting any ideas: i do frequently react virulently to stupid email forwards. This is no exception:
First of all, I am concerned at your idea that a book might pose a "danger to Christians and non-Christians." While I understand the concept of words and ideas being "dangerous" insofar as they question our assumptions or prompt a change in attitude, it is this very "danger" which makes words so powerful and ideas so important to leave unimpeded. It is in the interest of this danger that our 1st amendment explicitly protects these words and ideas. It is my belief, as it was the belief of the founders of the nation, that the benefits of supporting a free exchange of ideas far outweighed any danger they may pose.
Furthermore, wouldn't most enlightened Christians invite a broad range of ideas? It seems like the more diverse viewpoints from which a person might view their face, the more complete his understanding would become. An idea is only "dangerous" to the extent that it might hold water. To attempt to block out any idea which someone deems "dangerous" will undoubtedly prove catastrophic. Don't believe me, go ask China. Ask North Korea. These places are world famous for their intolerance of ideas. And no matter how they might try, these ideas will get in. In fact, the very act of attempting to block out unwanted ideas seems to make ideas even stronger.
If we tell our kids "don't read that book, it's bad," I'll be willing to guess that they will be equally, if not more, likely to read the book. The difference is that, if we had accepted the ideas for what they are -- words on a page that some person or people believe to be useful or valid or "True" -- we might be more likely to give our children the context by which they should view the ideas.
This same failure to understand the motivations which lead to actions can be seen in the "abstinence only" programs which are pushed by so many religious groups, as well as those who lately ran the executive branch. It can be seen in the failed D.A.R.E. campaign and "Just Say No." If you tell someone, especially a child (who, necessarily, and as you well know, will inevitably begin to question the authority figures in his life), that the only acceptable course of action in a complex and nuanced social situation is to deny any nuance and refer to a pre-written script for action, that person, when actually faced with the situation, will inevitably realize the inadequacy of the script. It's all well and good to practice "saying no" in a classroom or a bedroom or a family meeting, but it's a whole different story when it's your friend who offers the weed. Likewise, "abstinence only" fails to address the "what if..." because it absolutely refuses to accept that there is, or ever will be, a "what if..." The concept is steadfast in its idea that the world is black and white, that there is no room for discussion or confusion or questions or replies.
The world does not work like this. There is no room here for "black and white"; we are overwhelmed with gray. What divides a civilized society from a mindless raging mob is its ability to recognize another point of view.
If there is any danger to Christians in this email forward, I would posit that it lies in the continuing -- and, i fear, growing -- trend in the Christian Establishment (and there is one) to resort to this sort of "all or nothing" rhetoric. Those who resort to it are at risk of alienating themselves and their ideas as they create ever stricter and more one-sided viewpoints and then use misinformation, or disinformation, to move the flock. There is a prevailing viewpoint in the evangelical community that the less you know, the better. Don't read science books; they're full of lies. Don't read books about other cultures, religions, or faith traditions; they might taint your faith: they might raise questions. These "believers" (for they are not limited to the American Christian faith, though the majority will be found there and in the radical muslim community) operate on the erroneous and truly dangerous assumption that you can have Truth -- the all-encompassing, deep-feeling, soul-enlightening, Truth-with-a-capital-T Truth -- while at the same time denying the observational and experiential truth which has guided human cultural development for the past 10,000 years. They forget (or deny) that religion itself started as a form of science, as we observed our surroundings, observed the inner behavior of our minds, and began an attempt to make sense of it all. They also seek to quash any suggestion that "The Way" is not entirely in line with "Their Way." This has resulted, in some instances, in the denial of basic truths about the world, and in others, in the denial of basic human rights and dignity.
Finally, any point of view which would demand that we NOT allow our children to read, a standpoint which, to me, strikes an Orwellian discord, should be examined very closely, at least. And yet you freely admit that you have "not personally researched the validity." I find this statement heartbreakingly ironic when taken in the context of your paragraph, which you end by demanding that I "be a fighter in the War of Truth!" There was a time when truth could be approached not through war, but through debate, discussion, heartfelt appeals, and logic. I long for that time.
Incidentally, I have read (in high school, I think) a large portion of the book to which the email refers. It came out quite a while ago, which leads me to believe that this email has been circulating for quite some time. If I remember, the book's philosophy might be classified as mystic. That is, it understands the world through a Western, Judeo-Christian lense, but it's advice almost strikes you as eastern. A lot of talk of peace, I think, and spiritual unity. I'm not sure that the author is, or even claims to be, a Christian. He's not going for dogma, his aim, as is implied by the title, is conversation.
I hadn't done any plumbing since we bought our house and was eager to try my hand at it. The toilet job seemed pretty simple: There was a cast iron pipe leading out of the bottom of the toilet. About a foot below, in the crawl space under the house, the pipe took a 90-degree turn and headed off into oblivion. The leak was above the 90-degree turn, but below the toilet. Replace that section of pipe, and you're home free.
On Friday afternoon I visited the locally-owned plumbing supply store, told the salesman about my project, and bought the things that I needed. I had planned on replacing the piece of pipe from the floor to just past that 90-degree turn, using PVC instead of cast iron. This required taking the toilet up off the floor, as well as a handy little piece for making an easy transition from the PVC to the cast iron. I thought I'd just saw through the cast iron pipe with a hack-saw.
I spent about 30 minutes making a 1/8th inch dent in the 4 inch pipe before I went looking for another tool. (One thing I have learned, from the home improvement work I have done, is that there is nothing worse than working without the right tools.) I saved 60 bucks when, at Home Depot preparing to buy a "Sawz-All", I ran into an acquaintance of mine who owned one. That made short (45 more minutes) work of the cast iron pipe, and I was on my way.
After the section of pipe was removed, and as I was preparing the floor for the new flange upon which the toilet would sit, my wife made a suggestion, and our project took a 90-degree turn.
"Wouldn't it make sense, while the toilet is off the floor, to put the tile in?"
We had been discussing a bathroom renovation project for some time, which involved tiling the floor and tub enclosure, replacing the vinyl chair rail, installing a new vanity and toilet, and giving the room a paint job. Truthfully, it was the guest bathroom that was in direst need of the overhaul. This question is how it began.
So if we are going to install tile, we need to go ahead and get a new vanity, and so a new toilet. And of course the wainscoting we had discussed, and the paint, and why not get the shower curtain while we're at it? After all, it's on sale.
Our new vanity stands up on legs. It's finish is Dark Espresso. The white ceramic counter top sits on top and overlaps each side, as well as the front, which extends out in the rounded shape of the basin. Very nice to look at, and the contoured counter top saves a few inches in the already tight space.
Our old vanity was the cheapest one at the store. It was white coated particle board. It sat on the floor. The counter top was a hazy pink pearl, the basin in the shape of a seashell.
Since the old vanity sat on the floor, it was alright that the pipes came up through the bottom. This wasted a significant amount of cabinet space, but wasn't unsightly (setting aside the pink pearl seashell). Because our new vanity stands up on legs, pipes through the floor are unacceptable.
I should mention here that we didn't think about the pipe issue until we had demolished the old ugly vanity. This was my first headache, because it meant moving all of the pipes back into the wall. My second headache came shortly afterward, when, upon examining the situation from below (in the crawl space that is, not laying with my head to the floor), I realized that a large beam ran the length of the wall just below the area through which our new pipe assembly must pass.
As we pulled away the wall board in the area behind the old vanity, we found our first piece of human history in the house. When we had moved in I had scoured the attic and crawl space for signs of those who had come before us. Living in an old house appeals to me partially because I feel a curiosity about and a personal connection to the events that have been happening here for the last century. I always hoped to find something significant: a picture or a letter, something human.
What we found was not a letter or a picture, but was somehow more human than either. Apparently, old medicine cabinets were fitted with a slot at the back or the side, specially designed for your used safety razor blades. In the crawl space I had found an old medicine cabinet, broken severely, and had paid little attention to it accept to avoid cutting myself on the glass. What we found in the wall were the razors. Hundreds of Gillette flat safety razors poured out of a gap between wall joists. My wife put on some gloves and began picking them up to throw them away, and I thought perhaps this was human history. This was evidence of time spent, the beginnings of days, for days and weeks on end.
This bit of plumbing required a little ingenuity. for each pipe (there are three, two small pipes bringing hot and cold water into the house, and one larger pipe through which water drains) I bought two 90-degree fittings and two 45-degree fittings. I also bought a length of 1-1/2 inch PVC (for the drain) and a length of 1/2-inch CPVC (for the hot and cold spigot). (CPVC differs from PVC in that it is made to withstand the heat of the hot-water tap. The plumbers who had come before me, wherever they may now be, had used CPVC for both the hot and water taps.)
Then I set to work. Instead of sending the pipes straight up through the middle of the beam, which would have required a great deal of drilling and I feared would compromise the house's stability, I used a 90-degree fitting to turn each pipe straight up (I was starting with pipes running parallel to the floor), then a 45-degree fitting to angle them back toward the beam and the area inside the wall above. I ran them through a hole into the room, and then used my other 45-degree angle to re-straighten them. The last 90-degree fitting turns the pipes out into the room, now from within the wall, instead of out of the floor.
I did this for two of the three pipes (the drain pipe and the hot water tap). The only shut-off valve under our house does not turn off the cold water in the front half of the house. We've called a plumber to put in a valve, because I couldn't find the shut-off at the street. I also completed the original project: repairing the leaky toilet.
Next, we repair the walls and prepare the floor for tile.
I have been interested in Early Christianity for some time. Having been raised in the Christian tradition, and eventually coming to question it, I had some vague understanding of the process, more political than prophesied, by which the New Testament, and our current form of Christianity, came into being. It was always a topic of interest to me, as I found myself particularly annoyed and frustrated by those Christians who take the Bible as literal truth, without considering the long and convoluted process by which we have been granted access to the Book. I understood that translation was an issue, as well as the many times that the Bible had to be recopied by hand before it was collected and finalized. Both of these certainly led to errors, as well as omissions and additions by those very scribes doing the copying and translating, who were not likely without their own ideas and interpretations.
Until recently, though, my understanding of the topic came from what I had heard and the conclusions I had myself come to. I just picked up a book on the subject. Bart D. Ehrman's Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scriptures and the Faiths We Never Knew is an examination of some of the earliest forms of Christianity, occurring throughout the region in the years before the New Testament was collected and one form of the religion, the form we are all familiar with, won out over all the others.
The book so far is wonderful. Ehrman, a New Testament scholar and chairman of the Department of Religious Studies at UNC Chapel Hill, uses myriad primary source material, translated by him from the original (ancient Greek, Coptic, Aramaic) to support his understandings of some of the earliest forms of Christianity. Only one of these groups (Ehrman refers to them as proto-Orthodox) comes out of the early centuries CE in one piece. The rest of them, and they are many and varied, were "lost," only to be rediscovered in previously unknown texts, found covered in dust in monastic libraries, or, more frequently, covered in sand in the deserts of the Middle East.
One chapter of the book is dedicated to a group of early Jewish-Christians known as the Ebionites. Ehrman makes the point of calling them Jewish-Christians, as these early followers of Jesus saw their budding religion not as something new, but as a simple extension of the Jewish faith. Jesus, of course was Jewish, and he Ebionites held that his appearance did not make null and void the teachings of the Old Testament, God's Law to his chosen people, which involved keeping the Sabbath, eating only certain things at certain times, and of course, circumcision.
You can imagine that these Ebionites may have had some trouble finding converts. How many, after all, are likely to choose a religion which not only institutes some pretty hefty rules and regulations, but also requires a painful and sensitive surgical procedure? Most of the Ebionites were likely already Jewish, and it is not surprising that this form of Christianity didn't catch on as the religion of the masses. As Ehrman puts it:
Had Ebionite Christianity "won" the internal battles for dominance, Christianity itself would probably have ended up as a footnote in the history of religion books used in university courses in the West. (p. 110)
This, however, is not the most interesting aspect of this ancient Christian sect, nor have I yet come to the reason for this post. You see, the Ebionites, according to Ehrman, seemed to have given up the sacrifice of animals, considering Jesus' death on the cross to have been the ultimate sacrifice and thus making any further sacrifice unnecessary. This also lead them to strict vegetarianism, considering any killing of animals as an unnecessary sacrifice. This also led to some interesting developments in their holy book, which Ehrman refers to as the Gospel of the Ebionites:
Probably the most interesting of the changes from the familiar New Testament accounts of Jesus comes in the Gospel of the Ebionites description of John the Baptist, who, evidently, like his successor Jesus, maintained a strictly vegetarian cuisine. In this Gospel, with the change of just one letter of the relevant Greek word, the diet of John the Baptist was said to have consisted not of locusts [meat!] and wild honey (cf. Mark 1:6) but of pancakes and wild honey. (pp. 102-103)
Pancakes! Ha!! I had always pictured John the Baptist as a grizzly, poorly-groomed bear of a man, coming out of the woods like a beast with visions and premonitions of some looming event. He had seemed to me like the first sidewalk caller, unwashed and unfed yelling out the prophetic words of God to anyone who would listen. But reading this put a whole new spin on this image.
I laughed out loud as I imagined John the Baptist coming out of the woods, famished, donning a soiled red flannel shirt, jeans, suspenders and boots, sitting down at the first table he could find to a steaming hot pile of flapjacks and honey as tall as they could be stacked. This seemed to me something that might turn up in a Cohen Brothers "loose adaptation" of the Gospel according to Mark. John the Baptist Lumberjack!
Further, somewhat cursory, research outside Ehrman leads me to the feeling that the Ebionite interpretation may in fact be more accurate. The word in question, which according to Ehrman needs but one letter changed, is the Greek word for locusts, akris. The Ebionites changed this word to egkris, or pancakes made of ground coriander seed. Paula Gott, an Essene Nazarene minister, sites earlier references to this same food, found in the Old Testament descriptions of the Jews' 40 years in the wilderness (Numbers 11:7-8, Exodus 16:31-32). It seems appropriate that in a New Testament Gospel like Matthew, which is decidedly pro-Jewish (Ehrman 98), parallels would be drawn between John the Baptist's wanderings in the wilderness and these earlier Jewish experiences there.
Whatever version is "correct," and Ehrman's book will lead many people to the conclusion that arguments over Biblical "correctness" may be moot, my own personal version of John the Baptist has been forever changed.
