Christmas Reflections

If you read my sporadically updated blog, you know i like to philosophize. You know, also, that I love to speak sarcastically and ruffle feathers. Today I am going to attempt a blog entry without any of that. I'll do my best to speak in plain english – if for no other reason than I want to see if I can do it. . .

It is 8:50 am on a cold Chicago Thursday. I am sitting in a Starbucks located at Jackson and Wabash, drinking a grande Espresso Truffle. I am feeling quite good. I am feeling good because I feel like I am starting to become comfortable in my own skin again. Not only my own skin, but in my intellectual positions, my abilities as an artist, musician, friend, husband and occupier of random spaces throughout the day. I know some people get depressed in the Winter, some people have something called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD. . . that's really fitting. . .) where they get REALLY depressed during the Winter months due to the constant grey skies and little sunlight. There seems to be a few popular methods of treatment for the disorder:

1. Move to California.

2. Take prescribed anti-depressants.

3. Buy ultra-violet lights to sit under throughout the day. These provide the vitamin D that the sun does and can stimulate the body to chemically correct itself.

Maybe you suffer from SAD, maybe not. My point is that I do not. Not only do I not suffer from SAD, my artistic/musical abilities become stronger. Why? Here's my theory. . . remember, it's just a theory. . .

Winter, grey skies, moody weather, these things tend to make people more introspective. Need proof of this? Listen to the radio in the Winter. You don't hear the snappy, carefree music nearly as often as you would in the Summer. This is because radio producers know that people tend towards depression/introspection in the Winter. More often you are hearing the singer/songwriter type of music. If you listen to rock radio, this doesn't apply. They play depressing music all year round. So, because people are more introspective, myself included, I tend to do even more self-analyzing and pondering. this helps fuel my artistic abilities by giving me new fodder to channel while creating or performing. This in turn boosts my own confidence in my abilities, putting me into a better mood. As long as this cycle continues I am in a generally positive mood. The art I create in the Winter seems better to me too. . . that's completely subjective though. . .

Now that I've spent the better part of my blog entry talking about SAD and how Winter doesn't depress me, let me steer my musings toward the Christmas holiday. I love Christmas. I, like most excitable children, used to lose sleep on Christmas-eve in sweaty anticipation of the following morning. I would also psyche myself out and live in dread that I wasn't going to get my big-ticket item. In my day (man, this'll date me. . .) it was a Nintendo Entertainment System (known by geeks as the NES.) I lusted over this thing like a sex addict for boobies (sorry about that analogy. . . a bit graphic. . . ?) Anyway, I remember the Christmas I first asked for it. Actually, "ask" is too gentle a word. Beg, cry, blather about, drool over, go into seizures for more accurately describe my obsession with the grey, square, electronic god. Christmas morning I woke up at something like 3:27 am and had to peek. The tree was surrounded by presents. At my age, I could have sworn that the presents were piled half-way up the trunk, I realize now that there were probably only a handful each. No matter, I looked around and saw stuff wrapped in brightly colored paper with ribbons and bows and all this stuff. Although i saw several large boxes os stuff, I had actually no idea what a NES box looked like, not to mention what the games looked like, so I went back to bed excited but nervous. 

Fitfully, I resumed my slumber. At the prescribed time (7:30 am) I woke my parents and siblings and was the first to the tree. I had a small pile of what I though were books, a large box (that was made out to my brothers and I. . . ) and some Transformers. My parents encouraged us to open the large box together - and we did. In a magical display of. . . magic. . . a brand new NES emerged from its pitiful papery prison and glowed majestically. I think I even heard a choir of angels singing softly in the distance. 

I nearly wet my pants. I spent the rest of the day in front of the TV playing Super Mario Bros. – even to the point of leaving the dinner table early so I could resume my game. As a side note, whenever Mario would jump, I even kicked my leg out as if I was going to jump with my little 8-bit friend. Anyone else do that? Maybe it was just me. . . 

All that said, I love Christmas. As I've gotten older and wiser (ok, maybe just older. . .) I have had my exciting Christmas', but the gifts are not as important to me. through the years, I've seen that the gifts given are at the time terribly exciting, but over time, the shine wears off. They become used and forgotten. I am at a point in my life that I can buy any of the gifts that others give me myself, and I am finding that I am more interested in the practical and the useful over the flamboyant and the flashy.  Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for all my Christmas gifts and still look forward to the exchanging of presents, but I want to celebrate family, friends and the birth of Christ rather than obsess about toys and gadgets. These are the things that are lasting. These are the things that transcend time, trends, turmoil and too little sleep the night before. These are the things I value. 

The past few years I've been way too busy to stop and reflect upon the holidays. I am not making the same mistake this year. I am taking the time to spend it giving to others not only items and gifts, but my time and my love.

Merry Christmas. May God bless you all.

Is different REALLY good?

The other day I was hungry while running errands around town and I decided to stop and pick up some fast food to appease my rumbling tummy. Around my area were the usuals: McDonalds, Burger King, Taco Bell, White Castle, etc. Each of these various establishments have their respective "big" item - The Whopper, The Big Mac, The Baconator (mmmm. . . bacon), the Nacho Bell-Grande. But this day, I saw something that amazed and simultaneously horrified me beyond my ability to describe it. Well, there is only one word to describe it. . .

Buffaque. 

Say this slightly slower and you'll get the horrified part. . .

This concoction is supposedly a cross between a barbeque sandwich and a "buffalo" hot sauce.  I wouldn't really know if it's good or not as I couldn't get past the name. All I could think about is the idiot who was pitching the idea in the marketing office. 

"Hey, guys. I've got this new sandwich that is a combination BBQ and buffalo hot sauce thing. . . what do you wanna call it?"

"Uh. . . buffaque?

"Cool."

And then they go to the art department and so on down the line. No one ever stopping to consider that their sandwich was really selling fast food sodomy.

This name will (hopefully) quickly disappear into the annals of obscurity, but if Arby's was smart, they'd publicly deny all knowledge of the sandwich and fire the guy who conceptualized  the idea. . .

A Call to Love and Wisdom

After my last entry, my "very close friend" gave it a read through and responded to me. As per his request to remain anonymous, I have placed his email in its entirety here as my next entry - omitting any personal references to himself, name or other personally sensitive information.

Thanks Anonymous!

Anonymous references a few articles in his email to me. These articles can be found at the following links below:

Derek Webb's Article: www.patrolmag.com/times/992/how-shall-we-then-vote

Mark Driscoll's Blog: www.theresurgence.com/md_blog

* * * * *

Caleb,

I love reading your blog.

Fromthe timing, it sounded like you wrote today's entry based on our email thread. I hear your call to reason, and I'll raise that call (poker terms now) to Love. Not the kind of mushy, sentimental "love" that decides to simply not talk about stuff, living in a crowded room of "white elephants". No, the kind of love that Jesus presented, where he challenged people in real discourse to THINK and FEEL as Yahweh does. In effect, I would offer that we, you and I and those who agree with your thesis in your entry, are calling for Wisdom.

Wisdom is often described as "knowledge gained through experience". The bible talks about Wisdom first as Fear of the Lord. Then we say that this kind of fear described here is not a kind of groveling fear. And I agree that biblical Fear of the Lord is not SIMPLY groveling fear. It is groveling fear, and then something else: trust in God's promise to not actually destroy us as we deserve. Maintain that groveling fear of Yahweh (as the great scientist Egon Spangler offers a wonderful word picture: "Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.") and add to that a tacit knowledge of God's kindness and affection for you, and you're getting towards biblical Wisdom.

We want people to start all discussions about basically anything with a right Fear of God. This produces epistemic humility, and yet confidence in our Creator's affection, faithfulness and loyalty to, Himself first, and to us through secondary causes.

Fear of God, Wisdom, shocks us into a higher allegiance. As both the articles I cited in my email to Selina point, we are NOT citizens of the USofA, we are Sojourners in the USofA, and therefore participate in their community life. But out identity is in Christ, it is hidden with God in Him until He should be revealed, and we are truly FIRST, citizens of Heaven (and the new Earth, not some spiritual cloud world. . .)

This means we owe our THOUGHTS and our FEELINGS first to our King. He is to shape them, and we are to obey him first. This means, as Derek Webb's article states (which I encourage you to read): ". . . it would likely be sinful if we were all reaching the same conclusions on how to best love our neighbors, so there's plenty of room for a difference of opinion there."

I highly respect the biblical moral values you see Obama advocating. I also highly respect the biblical moral values that McCain advocated. For those who voted with a biblically shaped clear conscience for either candidate, I applaud them for their integrity and faith and correct delight in  those biblical virtues and ideas which each candidate possessed or espoused (and each did, with some overlap between them, but mostly each covered different areas).

To your main irritation, I concur. Those who votes based simply on party lines, because of "christian" pressures (either offensive voting or defensive voting), those are the people I would challenge: be very careful you are not committing idolatry in your hope in a candidate. For those who voted McCain, your idolatry may look lilke inordinate despair. "All our hopes for the Mission of God to renew the USA are gone," this is a wicked and unbelieving position. Repent. Jesus is King and he appoints wicked and just rulers all over the world, throughout time, for His purposes.

For those who voted Obama, your idolatry may look like inordinate and misplaced hope. "All our hopes for the Mission of God to renew the USA are going to happen," this is too a wicked  and unbelieving position. Repent. Jesus is King and he appoints wicked and just rulers all over the world, throughout time, for His purposes. As Mark Driscoll's blog pot preaches (which I also encourage you to read): "for those [who] have gotten sidetracked for the cause of a false king and a false kingdom by making too much of the election and too little of Jesus, today is a good day to practice repentance. . ."

A Call To Reason

I am distressed with the current state of Christians in America. Not all Christians, but specifically the kind of Christians who view anyone and anything that differs from their religious/political preference/POV. 

I really didn't want to start off my entry with a perceived attack, but the reality is, when attempting a discussion with most individuals as described above, they take an immediate defensive position and rarely give any real thought to the conversation, rather they just dig in and defend their position until the "firing" stops. So, that said, I apologize if you've already taken offense, I am desperately trying to engage in a discussion, not a bashing.

I am calling out for reason. I am pleading as Paul the Apostle pleaded for us to reason together. My worries began weeks before the election and have since turned into despair for my brothers and sister in Christ. Many of you feel the same as I, and many of you do not. It is under the banner of working together in unity as the body of Christ that I make my appeal to all of you reading this.

I voted for Barack Obama. Not because he was a lesser of two evils or anything like that. I voted for him because I truly believe he was the candidate best suited to lead our country. John McMain had many good attributes as well, but when I consulted my conscience I voted along those lines. We can bicker about whether we think Obama is a Marxist, a Socialist, a Muslim, or worse. We can label him a baby killer, pro-homosexual rights, tree hugger, etc. We can pick our two or three moral issues to stand on and make them our hills to die on. Unfortunately, this is where almost all Christians lose it. They view the issue of pro-choice as "pro-abortion" - literally meaning anyone voting for a "pro-choice" candidate is saying "I am in full support of abortion." Similarly, they view this same vote as saying "I am validating and endorsing the 'homosexual agenda' and am supporting homosexual marriages." I find it unfortunate that my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ have become so attached to the republican party that they are failing to see the bigger picture. 

The Republican party is just as screwed up as the Democratic party. 

That just needed to be said. 

A very close friend and I had a discussion about faith and politics a few years ago. In the discussion I assumed many things about him and his views based on how he lived out his faith. Here was a man who was attending seminary, seeking God on a daily basis, in love with Christ, and yet was a Democrat.

I was shocked. I literally could not believe it. Everything I was ever taught to believe about the Democratic party was that they were evil, they wanted to destroy traditional morality and usher in a new world of drunken sex parties with abortions as morning after solutions. The Dems wanted to destroy my faith and make every whim of our flawed humanity not just permissible, but highly encouraged. They wanted to make it ok for homosexual heathens to have equal rights based specifically on the basis of their sexual preference. These heathens would then go on to adopt children and pass on the legacy of evil to the next generation.

Does this sound crazy? That's because it is. It is as far from the real truth as it can get.

During World War II,  the German government used massive amounts of disinformation to smear all pho opposed them and their agenda. This is known as a propaganda campaign. This kind of disinformation id designed to build a nearly unbreakable sense of loyalty to the home team and build in a massive distrust and fearful hatred of the opposing side. The German's campaign worked. This is how the republicans and democrats treat each other. They each make massively oversimplified statements about the other's position meant to rile people up. Individuals like Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly and Ann Coulter are the GOP generals while the other side has their political spinsters. All of these individuals are responsible for manipulating information to better suit their own political agendas and personal platform. 

On a personal side note - at the risk of biasing myself -  If I hear one more person tell me about what Rush Limbaugh says I think I'll kill myself. There. Got that off my chest. . . Don't worry - I hate listening to democrat rhetoric too.

Republicans tend to over simplify the Democratic point of view and hammer the pro-choice and gay rights issues while Dems over emphasize GOPpers archaic "Puritan" values and biggotry. Both parties have some legitimate complaints with the other, but neither side is willing to play nice with the other long enough to work anything out.

This is where I am calling for reason - let us work out these differences. Let us discuss our reasons in a respectful manner. GOPpers are not all greedy, racist biggots (though, sadly, many are. . .) and Dems are not all aborting gay babies (though sadly, there could be an argument for this. . .) My hope is that Christians on any side of the political  arena will set aside the polarizing aspects of their politics and follow John McCain's example of reaching across the aisle and work with those you do not 100% agree with - without condemnation. You might be surprised at what you might agree with them about.

Time for Change

No. This isn't about the upcoming election, but speaking of which, I at least have decided who Im going to vote for. I won't bother to polarize any of you might actually read this by informing you of my decision, just leave it at that. I have something of more importance to me personally to write down.

I am a jerk. I realize this almost daily. I was reading this essay a few weeks ago about a sociologist who wanted to test a theory. The theory can be summed up in the title of the essay "If Hitler asked you to electrocute someone, would you? Probably." It goes on to talk about how this sociologist created a negative reinforcement experiment involving electrocution. He had actors playing all of the parts except for the person who responded to an ad the sociologist placed in a local paper. This person had no clue about what was going on, only that they were going to be a part of an experiment. They had no idea that the people involved were actors. For all they knew, they were participating in vital scientific research. When the actor playing the head scientist explains that the volunteer will be asking a person who is hooked up to electrodes a series of questions. If the person responds positively, there is no penalty. If they respond negatively, there is a mild and brief electrical shock that is administered by the volunteer. Simple, huh? 

The volunteer is then instructed that with every incorrect answer, in addition to the shock they are to administer, they must then up the voltage by on click of a dial on the electrocution machine. You can guess where this is going. Throughout the experiment, many different volunteers push the button, electrocuting the victim. As the voltage increases, the victim cries out in pain. Eventually it gets to the point where the victim must be physically restrained and given the shock as they are becoming more and more violent and resistant to the experiment. Mind you, the victim is an actor. . . he is only playing his role. He has been caused no real pain, but the volunteer does not know this. He/She thinks that this is real, thus the real experiment collects its data. The study found that a vast majority of people continued to punish the victim even when they saw it caused severe pain and potentially permanent damage simply because they thought they were doing it in the name of something good, and someone in authority simply told them too. Some of the volunteers even relished the action.

Disturbing.

Why am I telling you all this? Surely neither you or I would ever do these kind of things? I tell you this because both you and I most certainly would, and we do on a daily basis. I tell you this because it is not just true in the big ideas, it is also true in all of the little areas of our lives. I see this daily. I become more like my friends when with them. I tend to make fun of others when others around me do it. I curse more when around others who do. I act in ways I am ashamed of. I feel pathetic.

Thank God for my wife. She is not afraid to call me on my crap. Seriously. She is truly a wonderful woman and even when it hurts, she tells me the story like it is. No gloss, no stat cleaning, simple and clean truth. I want to polish up the edges and somehow justify my behavior like it was somehow not my fault, that I have an excuse to get me out of it. The plain truth is that it usually is my fault. I am a bastard most of the time. I'm selfish, an addict, pleasure seeking, responsibility shirking, arrogant, snobby and even a bit elitist.

Please don't be surprised. I am merely trying to be honest with myself and with others. I really believe that if I don't face myself, I'll never really rise above the gritty parts of myself and be able to truly grow in a healthy and responsible manner; spiritually, mentally, physically and emotionally. 

Body Aches and Pains

I've been away from my chiropractor for far too long. My neck is causing tension headaches on a seemingly constant basis, my feet hurt, my hips are uncomfortable, my back is achy and tense and my shoulder is screaming from stress too.

I'm beat up.

I took 1200 mg. of Motrin about an hour ago and so far, nothing. I think I might need something a wee bit stronger as I re-align my spine and mind. 

Either that or just start taking my Motrin with Vodka. That might do it too. . .

Long Time Coming

My time has come.

"Time for what?" I hear you ask. Well, I'll tell you my friend, and I'll tell you with much joy and glee.

After nine excruciatingly long years of battle, I am finally going to kick my basement's ass!

A kindly warrior from Permaseal spent two hours in my basement poking and prodding the walls of my concrete Grendel to ascertain it's weakness. That being established, I am making arrangements with the "Basement Beowulf" to solve my problem.

Finally, there will be peace in my kingdom.

I've found out where Hell is.

To the casual observer, 332 S. Michigan avenue in Chicago, Illinois looks much like other Chicago buildings. It architecturally fits in amongst the other buildings surrounding it, has businesses located on the street level and offices and homes on the upper levels. However, it does contain one thing that these other buildings do not. As far as I am concerned, 332 S. Michigan avenue - floor 2 - is the gateway to hell.

Enter the mens room.

If you've ever heard Dane Cook's rant about mens rooms, you know that the typical mens room is dripping wet. Yes, a St. Bernard shook himself dry in there. The walls are wet and there is obscene graffiti on the walls, often of the erotic variety. The toilet seats are urine coated and often have butt crust left on the top of the curvature of the seat. This is just one of the legacies that men leave other men throughout our lives.

The mens room on the 2nd floor of 332 S. Michigan avenue is vastly different than the stereotypical mens room. It is infinitely worse. This is the kind of place you would never ever willingly visit if you could help it. If there was a tipped over port-o-let open in the hallway and was leaking out septic waste onto the floor, that would be preferable to the enclosed and private mens room. 

I would even go so far as to say I would rather pee with my pants down in front of a crowd of jeering elderly people than to use the mens room there.

This loathsome, godless room is the kind of place you would use as a penalty for losing a bet. Say you bet your friend that you can bed a pretty girl and you lose, you may end up doing bare chested push-ups in the large handicapped stall in this room. 

The handicapped stall is one of the dirtiest places to drop waste. People have wiped their arses and deposited the paper on the floor next to the toilet. Not just once or twice, but enough to create a moderately large pile. The toilet paper dispenser itself is constantly riddled with homo-erotic and racist quotes, song lyrics, all of which are misspelled. 

Boogers, some bloody, are picked or blown directly from the nose onto the wall in a Jackson Pollack-esque manner. The floor is not worth walking on - think Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom insect carpet scene. The urinals eerily ooze fluid of some kind, the ceiling weeps blood, the art on the back of the door is bad, but admirably, the best part of the bathroom experience (which is bad no matter how you look at it). The sink is always dripping and is usually covered with some sticky waste or alien life form that is seemingly bent on conquering every square inch of the countertop.

So, next time you brazenly tell someone to got to hell, let them know it is located a 332 S. Michigan Avenue in Chicago.

Oh, you can also tell them that it is expecting them.

Woo-Hoo!

Well people, it's bout that time!

"What time is that, Caleb?" you may find yourself asking. "Battlestar Galactica time?" 

Nay. Well, yes - but no - well. Hold on.

Battlestar Galactica? Yes it's on. Unfortunately, I don't pay for Sci-Fi so I end up watching the internet versions a few days later. That's almost criminal. I have a 50" plasma HD TV and I get to watch BG on my laptop. BG? More like BS!

Anyway, that's not why I am excited (although it is enough to make me wanna crap my pants with anticipation). I am excited for a much more pragmatic reason. 

Tax return? Nope.

Spring time? Nope.

School lets out in less than three weeks. 

Booya!

I have so much planned in terms of paintings. I am hopefully traveling out to my uncle's place in Colorado to exhibit some of my paintings in his gallery. I am attending Wizard World Chicago as an exhibitor for the first time in my career, and my band's new CD will be out in a month or so. 

I'm think I'll go drink a beer!

Wha . . . ?

It's Tuesday.

It's the day of my Tues-daily ritual, sitting in Caribou Coffee for an hour and a half before my Marketing class. Here I am serene and contemplative. Maybe it's the soothing Beatles music they're playing today. Maybe it's my foo-foo drink I'm sipping; an Orange Zest Cooler (think frappuccino for those uneducated. . .). Maybe it's the incredibly racist graffiti I read carved into the wall of the mens room.

Now that I think about it, it's not for that reason. 

So, I enter the Caribou establishment with "tasty refreshment" on my mind and "get to the toilet!" in my bladder. I attempt to open the door to the mens room only to find it locked. Practically pinching myself to contain the near flash flood of man pee about to spew forth from my nethers, I kill the few minutes by actually ordering my beverage. By the time the occupant of the mens room exits I already have my drink in hand. My teeth are now floating in a sea of orange zestiness and my bladder is the size of a small child. 

I enter the room and proceed to doff my backpack, jacket and hoodie. The moment has arrived. Salvation is here! As I begin my "activities", I naturally glance anywhere except there. As I visually record the artwork on the wall, the well crafted porcelain of the toilet, the finely made plywood cabinets, I notice a phrase carved not delicately into the wooden trim of the room.

"All Hail Danny Glover, Prince of the Underworld."

I nearly began wetting the floor with my own special cleaner. Someone had then, post-carving, added the phrase "Black Panther" to the sentence. Now it read:

"All Hail Danny Glover, Black Panther, Prince of the Underworld."

I finished my business and found a seat to enjoy the rest of my orangey treat. Now all I can think about is how this graffiti will now color the way I see Lethal Weapon 3 from now on. . .

Addicted to Warcraft

I know what you're thinking. . . "Warcraft?". Yep, Ive been playing Warcraft in my spare time. The good news is, I have finished it all up. 

What is Warcraft? If you don't know, I'm not telling you. 

Ok.

It's a strategy game made just for people like me who are truly geeks at heart. You can play as Orcs, Humans, Night Elves, BLood Elves, and even the Undead known as the Scourge.

Fun, huh?

I am addicted to it. Think of it as a cross between "Sim City" and "Lord of the Rings".  I should be ashamed of myself. A grown man spending his spare time on the computer playing video games. I must tell you, that is not ALL I do. Why, just today I:

*Did the dishes

*Socialized with a friend of mine (yes, in person. Not online. . .)

*Went to Starbucks, twice.

*Took out the garbage

*Cleaned my basement

On the list of things I could have done are:

*Worked on my storyboarding project

*Worked on either of the papers I have due in a week and a half

*Actually led a productive day

All I have to say to defend myself is this: It is a holiday weekend and I needed a break. I will say that I have finished my game in its entirety and a m planning on working all this next week on all of my projects.

I hope Starcraft II comes out soon. . .

Ten 'Till Midnight

Judd Apatow. 

The name is synonymous  with vulgar, sexist and raunchy humor. The producer of such films as "The 40 Year Old Virgin", "Knocked Up" and "Superbad" as well as the upcoming films "The Pineapple Express" and "Forgetting Sarah Marshall". These films were funny, but I thought that they were just vulgar, "idiot" humor that appealed to the lowest common comedic denominator. Suffice it to say that I wasn't a fan before, but the planets re-aligned or I drank some kind of mystery potion and now I am. Here's why. 

My wife was interested in this television show that aired for a single season back in 2000 called "Freaks and Geeks". She added the show to our Blockbuster Online cue and told me we'd be getting it soon. She mentioned the Apatow connection to me and I was immediately skeptical. Now, don;t get me wrong, I am a male in my early thirties. I grew up with Kevin Smith films that I would watch over and over to the point where I had "Mallrats" memorized. THere was something about the Apatow films that seemed to push me away as opposed to drawing me in. I figured I'd give my wife the benefit of the doubt and trust her judgement. Besides, she would be more likely to put the kibosh on the viewing based on content before I would.

When the DVDs arrived in the mail and we sat down to watch them, I was immediately drawn into the lives of these teenagers and felt their struggles through high school. Their stories were strikingly similar to my own and the main character and his friends were like a carbon copy of my group of friends in school.  Watching these characters stumble their way around dating, friends, classes and even fighting endeared them to me. I was sad to see the series end.

After that series, we looked up the actors on IMDB to see what some of them were doing now, eight years later. Some of them ended up on another Apatow show (again, only lasting one season) called "Undeclared" about a bunch of college students finding their way through the college experience. This show was definitely more laugh out loud funny than "Freaks" was but not as endearing. 

The point of all of this is that after seeing how Apatow deals with the juxtaposition of real life humor and situations (albeit a bit over dramatized and spruced up for tv's sake) and the real heart for relational unity has made me a fan. I don't necessarily love all of the graphic sex jokes, but I am willing to look past some of that to see the redemptive qualities of his stories.

Thanks, Judd