Following the Winding Path
I'll probably be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence
You can listen to the audio version of this essay here.
You know, as part of my never-ending quest to do human things, like eat carbohydrates and be vulnerable, I’ve decided to open today’s essay by sharing with all of you another personal experience. Like many of the others I’ve shared, this one is close to my soul; it was formative for me, intimate even in its closeness; I guess you could say it is now part of my heart, kind of like my ventricles and myocardium.
This important experience happened back in 2014. That was the year we moved to the place that my children now say they’re from; that was the year my firstborn turned one; that was the year that, after such a long time of struggle and worry, I got accepted into and started a PhD. While all these things are important, though, they aren’t the personal, affectionate experience I’m talking about.
Because the experience I’m talking about is the first time I learned about Cook Out.
For those of you from the west or from north of the Mason-Dixon line, Cook Out is a fast-food restaurant. But it’s not just any fast-food restaurant; it’s not just McDonalds or Wendy’s or whatever other place you might associate with the term “fast food.” No, Cook Out is something more than that; something far bigger, more glorious, more spectacular in its scope and more astonishing in its vision. It’s like Arctic Circle, only better, cheaper, and with a far greater variety. If the perfect fast-food restaurant had been designed in heaven by a select committee of corpulent American-bred angels, then they would have—wait, what I am saying? That committee of thicc chonky angels did design the perfect fast-food restaurant, and it’s Cook Out!
And here’s the reason why: corn dogs. Yes, corn dogs, those delectable little fried delicacies. Fairground fare, you say? Uh, try rare-found flair, because this stuff is food fit for a king. Or queen, or non-gender-specific monarchical ruler. That’s right—break through its crisp exterior, and a gentle crunch gives way to a steamy, aromatic embrace. The batter—imbued with the nutty sweetness of stone-ground corn, subtly heightened by a whisper of buttermilk tang—wraps the dog in a blanket of pure nostalgia. The dog itself, exquisitely succulent, sings with a smoky richness, each bite a tribute to the alchemy of salt, spice, and time.
The accompaniments elevate the experience further: a dish of honey mustard, its sharpness mellowed by a golden drizzle of local wildflower honey; a dollop of ketchup, bright and tangy, offering a counterpoint to the corn dog’s savory warmth. Together, they dance on the palate like a perfectly choreographed pas de deux, a harmony of sweet, tangy, and umami.
ChatGPT wrote that description of a corn dog, by the way. Yet here’s the part you won’t even believe: at Cook Out, it’s possible to get a corn dog for your side as part of a combo meal. And also Cook Out gives you two sides for a combo meal, and both can be corn dogs. AND, your entrée can ALSO be TWO CORN DOGS, which means that you can have a combo meal that is nothing but FOUR CORN DOGS AND A CHEERWINE!!!! This is what Kevin Garnett was talking about after he won the NBA championship back in ‘08: ANYTHING’S POSSIBLE!!!!!!!!
I love Cook Out so much that I actually thanked it in my dissertation. Here’s the acknowledgement page:
Anyone I should probably get started.
In today’s essay and the one for next week, we’re finishing our initial exploration into the principle of context for revelation. These two don’t mark the end of context; they’re more like the conclusion to a subsequence introducing the principle. There’s a lot more to come later, including a special focus on context and the scriptures, context and action, and externalized revelatory instruments.
Today we’ll be returning to the idea of path dependence, which we initially discussed back in summer 2023; today we’ll consider it more in the light of context. And then next week we’ll talk about how we’re made in the image of God in order to think about an anthropomorphic God and the human context for revelation.
And now, path dependence.
Path dependence
First and most obvious, we have to ask, what is the greatest song ever recorded that has the word “path” in its title? Allow me to submit that the answer is the song “The Winding Path” by the British band Anatomy of the Bear:
You won’t regret listening. That band has a total of 473 monthly listeners on Spotify. A couple years ago they had around 600, and when the year ended, Spotify did that end-of-year wrap thing they do, and based on my listening, I was the world’s #1 greatest listener for Anatomy of the Bear in that year. And I intend to defend that title until the day I die, for no honor means more to me than that one.
No doubt you recall it as though it were yesterday, but just in case not, let’s review a bit the idea of path dependence, which we originally covered in relation to leaps of thought in June 2023.



