New Books In Literature

During my first few weeks at college, I concocted one of those dumb ideas that you get when you suddenly have the freedom of an adult without the wisdom of one.  My new dorm-mates and I would go undercover, as it were, and spend a day as prospective students at the famous Evangelical college down the road, Bob Jones University. Since we’d arrived in Greenville, South Carolina, we’d heard all sorts of rumors about Bob Jones: that you weren’t aloud to go out on a date without a chaperon; that the only place on campus men and women could mingle was a giant gymnasium filled with couches, and that you had to keep a couch cushion between you and the other person sitting next to you, presumably to block the demonic energy radiating from his or her genitals.  And, as if this precaution weren’t enough, this gym was spotted with lifeguard chairs, in which guards kept a wary eye out for the slightest chastity infraction.  We imagined the guards had whistles and Ray-Bands. So we went and, as you c