Freddie from ICarly Finally Shows Us His Chest

Remember Freddie, the nerdish video engineer on Nickelodeon's ICarly (2007-12)?  It had some rather homophobic scenes, including a queer-coded Big Bad, but at least Carly and Sam had a gay subtext relationship, big brother Stuart was obviously bisexual, and Freddie was cute.

Then actor Nathan Kress started to bulk up.

Fans waited patiently for some shirtless shots, if not on the show, then on Instagram, Facebook, Myspace, Snapchat...anywhere?  On the beach?  Demonstrating your workout?  Taking a selfie?

Nothing.  Nathan never even wore a sleeveless shirt.

Did he think muscles were incongruous with Freddie's nerd image?  Or as a fundamentalist Christian, was he worried about his body sparking lustful thoughts in teenage fans?

Who knows?  Physique aficionados eventually gave up on him, and moved on to guys who weren't so stingy with muscle displays.

Well, it's been six years since ICarly ended,  and Nathan is 26 years old, still buffed, still fundamentalist, only now with a beard, wife, and kid (I mean an actual beard).

He's done guest shots on other Nickelodeon shows, some voice work, some directing, and some acting.  His major projects include disaster (Into the Storm), horror (Tell Me How I Die), something about teen dancers (Breaking Brooklyn),  and a web comedy about an Apocalypse that didn't happen (Alive in Denver).

His new show, RadioActive Dads, will premiere on July 24th.

He's still shy about displaying his physique, but there are two shirtless shots amid the hundreds on his Instagram site.  Both taken at the same time.

Here he seems to be saying, "Ok, fine, here I am with my shirt off.  Happy?"













Not really.  I mean, you're hot and all, but was it worth all the secrecy? What's the big deal? Everybody has a chest.

See also: ICarly

Peeking into the Homophobes in Training at the Dayspring Christian Academy

I was looking on Amazon for a Latin Bible, maybe Jerome's Vulgate, when this popped up: Latin Bible Reader, with some Bible passages in Latin and vocabulary lists and really amateur illustrations, written by Dr. Randy Hilton of the Dayspring Christian Academy. 

The back cover elucidates: It is a K-12 school "established in 1987 as a beachhead against against the secular and socialistic tidal wave sweeping across America."

In 1987? The middle the Reagan years, the heyday of Jerry Falwell's Moral Majority?

I had to learn more about this school.

Dayspring Christian Academy was founded by Dr. Michael Myers, who still serves as headmaster.   It is in Montville, about 4 miles west of Lancaster, Pennsylvania (Amish country), across the street from the Mountville Church of the Brethren, down the street from the Mountville Mennonite Church, the St. Paul United Methodist Church, and the Vision of Hope Metropolitan Community Church.

A gay church a stone's throw from campus. Don't tell Dr. Myers!



Academics: They do offer Greek and Latin, plus rhetoric and logic,all of the classical arts.  With the Bible everywhere.

This is Dr. Hilton, by the way.  He teaches Latin and Doctrines.  When asked "What have you seen in your students that touched your heart the most, he responds "When they completely turn their hearts over to the Lord."

Wait -- he does soulwinning right there in Latin class?  I hope he declines it properly.

In English class, you study "British and American classics from Beowulf to Ben Hur." This is the first time I ever heard that the 1880 novel by Lewis Stone was a classic. Or good. Or that literature ended in 1880.  No Lord of the Flies for these Stepford students.

The Biology syllabus begins:  "Since the creation of Adam, man has been involved in the naming, dominion, and care of God’s plants and animals. The creatures of the earth were designed as a benefit to man and are therefore
worthy of observation and study. Because of man’s fall, students will also study life and its processes in order to survive the resultant diseases, infestations and harmful organisms...."

And on and on like that.

The Chemistry syllabus: "The foundation of science will be explored through a study of Genesis chapters 1 through 3."

I assume they get to atoms and molecules sometime?

What about World History?  " The impact of a society’s understanding of God on the view of the individual, government, education, work, and commerce is traced."

Surely not Algebra? Yep:  "Students also determine how the study of algebra reveals God through the biblical principles of constancy,  Christian character, problem-solving, representation, and the Dominion Mandate." 

What does any of that have to do with quadratic equations?

Every class is somehow connected to the Bible.  Even Olivet Nazarene College was never this fundamentalist.

Ok, student activities:

Clubs include Worship Team, Robotics, Ultimate Frisbee, and "Science Cinema" (you watch movies about science and criticize them for talking about evolution).

And something called Serve For Education Blessing Day, which allows students to play bowling, mini-golf, billiards, and video games.

Sports: They only offer soccer, volleyball, basketball, golf, and cross-country. The blond seems to have a physique.

The only shirtless photo I could find was of the gym teacher, which is not surprising, given the small school and the fundamentalist orientation.  But it's always fun to peek into the ranks of homophobes in training.

Imagine what Dr. Hilton would say!

Searching for Beefcake in Mahomet

If you leave Rock Island at 9:00 am and drive down I-74 toward Indianapolis, by noon you'll be near the Indiana border, at the town of Mahomet. Same thing on the way back.

I've stopped for lunch many times, going undercover at the fundamentalist Hen House, where Bible verses line the walls, the placemats are praying hands, and there are racks of Christian books for sale at the checkout counter.

The food is mediocre, old-fashioned "meat and two," but the thrill of "feasting with panthers," knowing that at any moment, a fundamentalist might realize that you're gay and start screaming, makes up for it.

Quite a bit of small-town beefcake is on display, too.

So, I started wondering, what else is there in Mahomet besides the Hen House?  And where did it get its distinctive name?



















1. The Name Mahomet

An old and derogatory word for "Mohammed," the sort of thing you might read in a Medieval romance:  "Then the Mahometans descended like wolves on the fold, their scimitars raised..."

No one knows how it got the name.  It was originally "Middletown."  The most likely theories are "The Mahomet Lodge," an order of Freemasons; Mahomet Weyonomon, a chief of the Mohecan tribe; and pure chance, after the post office discovered two "Middletowns" in the state.

Apparently there was a Middle Eastern fad in the late 19th century. Several towns in the U.S. are named Mecca, Medina, Bagdad, Cairo, Palestine, and even Arab.

But Mahomet is the only one that is actually Islamophobic. It must be decidedly embarrassing.

Or not.  The residents don't seem to care, or maybe they care the wrong way.

At a 2015 Board of Trustees meeting, a member complained that, as a Christian, he was deeply offended by the name, a "slap in God's face" and violation of the First Commandment ("Thou shalt have no other gods but me.")  He was told that it would cost too much to change the name.

In 2017, the Mahomet Daily had an article about a Mahomet woman who was working to bring her two sisters over from Pakistan.

There's an Islamic Center only ten miles away, in Champaign.

2. What else is there?

Not much.

Restaurants: Peking House, Domino's Pizza, Dairy Queen, something called Ice Daddy's.

Churches:  Lots.  Nazarene, Baptist, Church of Christ, generic fundamentalist (Mahomet Christian Center, Community Free Church, Grace Church, Christian Church, Church of the Cross).

I wonder how they feel about living in Champaign County.  It's named after the region in France, not the beverage, but still, alcohol is alcohol.

Museums: Museum of the Grand Prairie, with three permanent exhibits: "The Grand Prairie Story," "Blacksmithing in the Grand Prairie," and "Champaign County's Lincoln."

Buildings on the National Register of Historic Places:  None.  There is a historic bridge, built in 1893.

Colleges: none, but the University of Illinois is nearby.

High Schools:  Mahomet-Seymour High School, home of the fighting Bulldogs, offers a Gay-Straight Alliance.

But I couldn't find any beefcake photos.  This one popped up when I searched on Mahomet Wrestling, but it seems to be a guy on the Falcons team, not the Bulldogs.

And a fully-clothed wrestler.  At least he's from Mahomet.

Mahomet-Seymour High doesn't have a swim team, so I don't know where these swimmers are from.

We'll have to stick with the buffed fundamentalist boys who hang out at the Hen House.

The Dutch Reformed Beefcake of Grand Rapids

I've heard about Grand Rapids, Michigan throughout my life because it's the home of Eerdmans, a major publisher of scholarly religious books, and the ultra-Calvinist Dutch Reformed Church.  (Now just the Reformed Church, although many congregations have "Dutch" or "Netherlands" in their names).

Reformed boys in Grand Rapids are like Mormon boys in Salt Lake City, or Nazarene boys in Rock Island: button-down, Bible-carrying, fake-smiling, with a wild side.

The most interesting church in town is actually St. Mark's Episcopal, which has miniature churches on its towers.

There are four colleges in town, including the ultra-fundamentalist Calvin College and Seminary.  Dutch Reformed, of course.

Not surprisingly, they have wrestling, but not swimming.

For swimming, you have to visit one of the four public high schools in town.

Grand Rapids also has a professional ballet company.

Which, of course, performs The Nutcracker every year.

The National Physique Committee holds a bodybuilding competition in Grand Rapids every year. 

Lapsed Dutch Reformed bodybuilders?  Sounds like fun.

The Beefcake of Bob Jones

You've probably heard of Bob Jones University in Greenville, South Carolina, the most achingly fundamentalist college in the U.S. before Jerry Falwell opened Homophobia U.  It was founded in 1927 by fundamentalist preacher Bob Jones, whose grandson is still chancellor.  The rules are even stricter than at Nazarene colleges.

Like Nazarene colleges, there's no dancing, movies, secular music, card-playing, no teaching of evolution, and a curfew for all students.

In addition, BJU doesn't even offer courses in geology, it requires the King James Bible in all classes and services,  it has a strict dress code, and it doesn't admit non-fundamentalist students.  It did not enroll black students until 1975, and forbade interracial dating until 2014.

At both Nazarene colleges and BJU, coming out means being instantly expelled, but the chancellor of BJU has gone a little further, recommending that gay people be stoned to death (he has since apologized for his remarks, after receive a petition with 2,000 signatures).

But you've probably never heard of Bob Jones High School in Madison, Alabama, a suburb of Huntsville.  It's named after another Bob Jones (a state senator), and not affiliated with the fundamentalist bastion in any way.  In fact, it has a Gay-Straight Alliance.AND Young Democrats Club.

Can you tell which of these beefcake photos depicts the son of a progressive space scientist and which a fundamentalist training for a "hate the gays" ministry?  (Answers after the break)

1.  The swim team.














2. The swim team.

3. A powerlifter

4. A powerlifter















5. A high-GPA student





















6. A runner


















7. A high-GPA student

8.  A golfer

9. A wrestler





















10. A runner.

Answers:

The Beefcake of Science Hill

I would certainly not expect a school to be called Science Hill High in Tennesee, the site of the Scopes Monkey Trial and the Grand Ole Opry.   Especially not in Johnson City, in the Smokey Mountains on the far eastern corner of the state, near North Carolina.  Trip Advisor states that the top things to do in town are:
1. The Yee Haw Brewery
2. The Tweetsie Trail
3. Winged Deer Park
4. The Johnson City Public Library

Or you could just go to one of the many fundamentalist churches in town: Cornerstone Church, Calvary Church, Grace Fellowship, Highlands Fellowship, Redeemer Community Church, Redstone Church

There is a gay bar/drag club called New Beginnings, and in 2018 Johnson City held its first gay pride parade. According to the newspaper, "A heavy police presence was visible at the event. TriPride said threats from protest groups led to the extra security. Law enforcement were on roofs. A swat team stood ready, and THP patrolled the air in a helicopter."

Well, that's better than my first gay rights march in Iowa: the police were there to make sure we didn't rape any of the spectators.

But back to Science Hill, with the logo of a creepy Victorian Frankenstein called the Mad Hatter.  Apparently the team wins games by scaring their opponents into dropping the ball.

It was founded two years after the Civil War as the Science Hill Male and Female Institute, on a hill downtown next to the Public Library.  Every day students had to climb 88 steps to get there.

"Science" meant "knowledge" in those days, not specifically knowledge of the physical world, so it was appropriate for a school. 

I still don't get the creepy Mad Hatter.

It's not really on the cutting edge of academics.  The only world languages are French, Spanish, Latin, and German.  The only history is European and American.  Science includes Biology, Chemistry, and Physics. 

There are clubs for Cosmetology, Culinary Arts, Future Investors, Mountain Bikers, and Quidditch Players.  No gay groups.

But they do have a wrestling team.

I don't know why their singlets say "Le..avis" rather than "Science Hill."

The track team.













Another Hilltopper, this one in green.

A swimmer.  He may be the same person as the wrestler, with a change of hair style.

Or not.  Lots of blonds in Johnson City.

What's the Difference Between Joplin and Marshfield, Missouri?

Most of Missouri thinks it's in the North, but about the southern third of the state -- everything south of Rolla -- is distinctly country-western music, Confederate flags, Bible Baptist churches, and sweet tea.  And Joplin is the most distinctly Southern of them all.  At the far edge of the state, so a few miles' drive will put you in Oklahoma or...shudder..Arkansas.

If you happen to be stuck in Joplin, you can visit the hideout of infamous spree killers Bonnie and Clyde, the museum of minerals, or any of the 300 Baptist churches.  There are several evangelical Christian high schools and college, including Ozark Christian and Messenger, where you could get Leviticus quoted at you.

Ozark Christian, by the way, only offers crosscountry, soccer, and basketball.  I found no beefcake photos from them.

Or from anywhere in Joplin, for that matter, except the suburbs.

Like these two from nearby Marshfield.

I'm getting to like that Marshfield.

Quick, where do I sign up?

Turns out that Marshfield, MO is nowhere near Joplin; it just popped up during my search because Google couldn't find any swimmers, wrestlers, bodybuilders, or powerlifters in Joplin.

It's a small town of 7,000 about 20 miles east of Springfield, known for its replica of the Hubbel Telescope and a Wild Animal Safari.  Lots of Baptist churches, a Christian high school.  No Christian colleges, but you can drive into Springfield to get yelled at at Evangel University, Drury University, and Baptist Bible College.

More or less the same as Joplin, but with one essential difference.

Searching for Beefcake in Fundamentalist Central

There are three things I like about this photo:
1. The guy's last name is Friddle -- great name!
2. He's peeling off his wrestling singlet in front of God and everybody.
3. He has just lost the title to Aurora Christian's Cameron

When I was growing up in Rock Island, we visited Aurora, Illinois, about 2 1/2 hours away, for jump quizzes, talent shows, and soulwinning weekends.

Nazarenes always talked about it as a "beacon of light in this sinful old world," aka Fundamentalist Central.

Wheaton College
North Central College
A Christian publishing company
Three Nazarene Churches
Fundamentalist mega-churches with names like Abundant Life Family Center.

And a lot of cute fundamentalist boys, like these Wheaton College swimmers.

I was wondering if Aurora has changed since I graduated from high school, or is it still Fundamentalist Central?




This is the Cameron who just beat Friddle -- and looks extremely miserable for someone who has just won a championship.  He's from the Aurora Christian Schools (plural).

Christian high schools like Aurora Christian and Naperville Christian are a new thing -- at least, there weren't any that I know of back in 1975.  So now Aurora kids can learn that evolution is a lie and Roman Catholics and gay people are evil, and do  math problems that begin "If there are 6.23 billion people on Earth, and 2.3% of them are saved...."

And play football with their shirts off.

However, Aurora is now 40% Roman Catholic.

There is also a significant Greek Orthodox population.

This very sad wrestling champion (does anyone ever smile in Aurora?) is from the Roman Catholic Marmion Academy.

Surprisingly, Aurora Christian plays against them.  They must not be as anti-Catholic as Nazarenes.

Aurora is also the home of the Sri Venkasteswara Swami Temple, devoted to the veneration of Venkasteswara (an incarnation of Vishnu).

Built in 1986, it is a spiritual home for Hindus throughout the Midwest.

And the Fox Valley Muslim Community Center.  Over 6% of the population of Aurora is Muslim.

Also in Aurora, the Illinois Mathematics and Science Academy, a residential high school
where, I guarantee, you're learning about evolution.

It's nice to know that diversity has come to Fundamentalist Central.