I was at the gym the other day, and as I was leaving, I was walking behind two young kids (age 8-10) who were on their way home to dinner. Here's their dialogue.

Kid 1: I can't wait to get home. We're having my favorite food: baked pasta with a red sauce. What's your favorite food?
Me: Pasta with red sauce, what's your problem, kid?
Kid 2: Umm... Ummm... Steak! No, that's not what it's called.
Kid 1: I like pasta. And pizza.
Me: That's better.
Kid 1: And brisket.
Me: Brisket!? I don't think I've ever even eaten brisket!
Kid 1: And corned beef. I love corned beef.
Kid 2: Yeah, that's it! Corned beef! From Zimmerman's.
Me: Wait, what!? What's happening?
Kid 1: Are you from Ann Arbor?
Kid 2: Yes.
Kid 1: Me too.
Me: Oh. So that's what it's like to be the child of a yuppie...

I don't know how many of you looked at my sister and brother-in-law's new peanut, I mean baby, but I noticed that, when you magnify the picture of the ultrasound, the kid already looks a lot like a certain uncle to be. It's grainy, but it's uncanny really. I took the liberty of giving you the enlarged version below.

Every once in a while, I get a migraine. A lot of people say they get 'migraines,' but I'm not talking about a headache here. I mean that, every once in a while, I get a MIGRAINE. They usually hurt so much that I have to go to sleep. When I wake up, the pain is typically a little better, but I still feel like I've been hit in the head with a baseball bat. This dull ache usually lessens over the course of a few days--almost like recovering from being hit in the head with a baseball bat.

Anyway, before every migraine, I have a weird visual phenomena that's lets me know the pain is coming. Typically, it comes in the form of a jagged line of light that cuts through my visual field on the right side of my body. It's super annoying, and I usually can't wait for the pain to come so that it will go away, and so that I'll be sure that I'm not going blind. Almost always, it interferes with my vision for about an hour, goes away, and is replaced by the headache.

On Saturday, I'd finished my reading for the day (7 hours worth), and Sarah and I were headed to the mall to wander around. Halfway there, a jagged flash of light slashed through my left visual field; this one was spectacular, accompanied by a rotating ball of fire. Although the visual artifacts had never come on the left before, I knew what was coming.

As usual, the vision problem lasted for about an hour. But during that hour, I did wonder whether I was actually having a stroke, not a migraine. My fear started when I began having trouble seeing people's faces and reading signs: I knew they were there, I just couldn't make them out. Later, faces looked like Picasso paintings. And I mean EXACTLY like Picasso paintings. It was like I was in an art gallery. A disturbing, disturbing art gallery.

It's actually pretty scary to consider that you might be having a stroke. I even told Sarah that, if I started having trouble communicating or my face started sagging, we needed to go to the hospital. But at the end of an hour, the headache came and the vision problems went away. No stroke. Just a regular old baseball bat to the head. When I thought about it later, I realized what had been happening.

See, visual signals on the left are typically processed by the right side of the brain. That early artifact on the left was likely indicative of a problem on the right side of my brain (i.e., a migraine = swollen blood vessels; swollen blood vessels = impaired functioning) . The right side of the brain is theorized to be in charge of visual processing and facial perception. No wonder I couldn't read very well or make out faces. I even found out that there's a neuroscientist who likes to argue that Picasso's cubism was the result of migraines.

If only I could paint!

Here's where I must not have been clear in my last post:

1. There's no mystery is Joshua 2. The spies went to see Rahab because they wanted to have sex while they were on a mission from God.
   
2. Reading Joshua 2 in this light would give an entirely new meaning to the wheeling and dealing that the spies did with Rahab. She uses the information to blackmail them, and they essentially beg her to keep their 'secret' when they come back to invade (i.e., don't tell anyone what we did).
3. If you are familiar with the traditional interpretation of the passage, you will probably balk at the idea that the 'secret' might be about sex, however (a) the spies were already safe from the angry citizens of Jericho when they made the deal with Rahab, so (b) the 'secret' they want her to keep doesn't seem like it would be that they are hiding; it could instead be the embarrassing fact that they've had sex with a prostitute and non-Israelite.
   
4. I was wondering why no commentators talk about this, because it seems CENTRAL to the interpretation of the passage.

I have to go, the cat just barfed on the bathroom rug. It's a glamorous life I live.

Joshua 2:1

Then Joshua the son of Nun sent two men as spies secretly from Shittim, saying, "Go, view the land, especially Jericho " So they went and came into the house of a harlot whose name was Rahab, and lodged there.

I was reading a different translation (NASB) of this passage than I normally do (NIV), and something struck me as different. In this chapter, Joshua, the military and political leader of the wandering Israelites, has sent two spies into enemy territory to check out the land and assess for potential vulnerabilities. Here was my thought process.

1. Harlot? Why not just say prostitute?
2. Prostitute? Why do two spies stay with a prostitute?
3. Hey! I know why two out-of-towners go to see a prostitute! To have sex with her!
   
4. How come everybody always talks about Rahab's righteousness and nobody ever talks about (a) the fact that the spies were depraved, and (b) the fact that it was their that depravity almost caused them to get caught and killed?
   
5. What happens in Jericho stays in Jericho.