This I found fascinating. Fascinating and hopeful. And not quite what I expected!
And has anyone seen the twenty-year-old film in which he portrayed St Francis of Assisi? (If so, was it any good?)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Memorization as meditation
The blogger at Summa Minutiae has begun to memorize the Psalms. He has the first two psalms committed to memory!
I'm trying to memorize Psalm 51 in the Coverdale version. My modest goal is the first seven verses by the day after tomorrow.
If I succeed with this psalm, I may try a few of the shorter psalms.
I used to memorize things with great facility -- the poetry of Dylan Thomas and E E Cummings, most notably -- but now the mind's powers grow feeble, I fear.
I'm trying to memorize Psalm 51 in the Coverdale version. My modest goal is the first seven verses by the day after tomorrow.
If I succeed with this psalm, I may try a few of the shorter psalms.
I used to memorize things with great facility -- the poetry of Dylan Thomas and E E Cummings, most notably -- but now the mind's powers grow feeble, I fear.
Highlight of the 81st Academy Awards
Accepting his award for best animated short, La Maison en Petits Cubes, the Japanese filmmaker Kunio Kato offered halting thanks and then, apparently running out of English, quoted the old Styx hit and quipped, "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto."As described here.
A libertarian's opinion
Yes. I agree. I think that what you say is so. (On Attorney General Holder's "cowards" crack.)
(HT: Conservative Blog for Peace.)
(HT: Conservative Blog for Peace.)
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Quotation of note
Those who realize they have this interior leprosy come together in a leper colony, called the Church. The Church is filled with spiritual lepers who welcome one another, care for one another, and turn to Jesus, the Divine Physician, for cleansing, through prayer, worship, and the sacraments. The Church is then a hospital for the sick, not a country club for the spiritually sleek. We belong to the Church, not because we're saints, but because we're sinners, not because we're proud, but because we're humble, not because we want to do God a big favor, but because we need a big favor from God. ... See you at Mass.
Archbishop Timothy Dolan of Milwaukee
(Posted at Communio. HT: Clairity Daily.)
Archbishop Timothy Dolan of Milwaukee
(Posted at Communio. HT: Clairity Daily.)
I can't believe ...
... it's not butter!
(I shouldn't be watching this show, but this bit is harmless.)
(I shouldn't be watching this show, but this bit is harmless.)
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Angelou beats Alexander
In terms of the sales of Inauguration Day poetry, Elizabeth Alexander's "Praise Song for the Day" has failed to magnetize the book-buying public. Six thousand copies sold, contrasted to over a million for Maya Angelou's "On the Pulse of the Morning."
I still maintain that Ms Alexander's poem is better.
(HT: Poetry Foundation.)
I still maintain that Ms Alexander's poem is better.
(HT: Poetry Foundation.)
Last Marianne for a while, methinks
I'd do away with forced retirement. I would let people work as long as they can. The country needs their knowledge and experience, and they should have the joy of being productively employed, useful.
Pure water and pure air seem to me needed above all else. This would require vigorous efforts toward pollution control.
Some women are overlooked who have capacity for service -- as mathematicians, as scientists. I wish this could be given intensive thought.
I would encourage more government support of projects to save or restore historic houses and landmarks. Road and tree care seem important. Mrs. Johnson has aroused much incentive toward making scenery inspiring. I wouldn't overlook the beauties of Brooklyn. There, Mrs. Millar Graff's appeal for aid to historic trees has borne fruit by salvaging the beautiful Camperdown Elm in Prospect Park, planted in 1872.
The government is doing much for musicians, composers, and writers. I'd continue this help.
In response to a 1968 McCall's questionnaire asking, "What would you do if you were president?" From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore (Penguin Books, 1987), p. 691
Pure water and pure air seem to me needed above all else. This would require vigorous efforts toward pollution control.
Some women are overlooked who have capacity for service -- as mathematicians, as scientists. I wish this could be given intensive thought.
I would encourage more government support of projects to save or restore historic houses and landmarks. Road and tree care seem important. Mrs. Johnson has aroused much incentive toward making scenery inspiring. I wouldn't overlook the beauties of Brooklyn. There, Mrs. Millar Graff's appeal for aid to historic trees has borne fruit by salvaging the beautiful Camperdown Elm in Prospect Park, planted in 1872.
The government is doing much for musicians, composers, and writers. I'd continue this help.
In response to a 1968 McCall's questionnaire asking, "What would you do if you were president?" From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore (Penguin Books, 1987), p. 691
Friday, February 20, 2009
Marianne Moore for Friday
When I wake at six or seven -- I drink a glass of water -- write a résumé in a little 2 1/2 by 3 1/2 Swiss calendar-diary, given to me by a friend, of the previous day, any special name or fact I mustn't forget -- hang on my trapeze for a moment or two -- whether infirm or not, read a few lines calculated to counteract infirmity, from the Bible usually, as stabilizing "the innocency of our lives and the constancy of our faith" -- impatient to work but pause for breakfast -- bring it to my room -- half a grapefruit or orange juice, honey, an egg, hard-boiled or scrambled, a piece of Pepperidge white toast -- may eat a chocolate leaf if I have one -- in winter, dark hot chocolate with marshmallow or whipped cream, in summer perhaps no egg -- hearing meanwhile what Bob Hite has to say about the weather -- dress and go on answering correspondence of the day before, interrupted constantly by the telephone.
"How They Start the Day," originally in the September 1963 Glamour. From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, pp. 660-1.
"How They Start the Day," originally in the September 1963 Glamour. From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, pp. 660-1.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
November's antics
Don't fiddle with the gadgets in the pantry;
Go scrape the ice from birdbaths and tree-houses.
In the town of Marblehead, denizens are spry --
The water-works, the mine-shaft, what else gives?
Woods were foliate, back when, with veined nouvelles
At seven-three-thirty, at fourteen-five-point-six.
Night practices her scales, the lissome singer,
When insular starlight glozes our dismay.
The repertoire's impertinent : loose change,
Moon over Winnipeg, astral patty-cake.
Is this production feeling its oats? We need perchance
Full recompense for all those graceful oafs
And two-bit, three-bit players -- they gave us much :
Bright colors and a cheerful mise-en-scène.
An echo of a celibate shibboleth,
Eerie and wan, sneaks in beneath the harsh
Snarl of neighbors bickering over snowbanks,
Drifts of the white stuff blocking the Johnsons' driveway
Through which a snazzy Merc Cyclone is wont to roll.
The argument makes a crumpled, dusky din;
Trees overlook the ringing ... Time out! Zut! We need
A respite from rambunctious hoi polloi,
Drawn-out retreats at abbeys 'mid whose groves
Howl wolves, wail owls; every now and then
Wafts the lyric plaint of Philomel, alias Biffo Bailey,
On a leafless bough, alas, or winging high above
The wounded earth, with its parties and its rhetoric,
Breeze of a charlatan, jocular, sublime.
2001
Go scrape the ice from birdbaths and tree-houses.
In the town of Marblehead, denizens are spry --
The water-works, the mine-shaft, what else gives?
Woods were foliate, back when, with veined nouvelles
At seven-three-thirty, at fourteen-five-point-six.
Night practices her scales, the lissome singer,
When insular starlight glozes our dismay.
The repertoire's impertinent : loose change,
Moon over Winnipeg, astral patty-cake.
Is this production feeling its oats? We need perchance
Full recompense for all those graceful oafs
And two-bit, three-bit players -- they gave us much :
Bright colors and a cheerful mise-en-scène.
An echo of a celibate shibboleth,
Eerie and wan, sneaks in beneath the harsh
Snarl of neighbors bickering over snowbanks,
Drifts of the white stuff blocking the Johnsons' driveway
Through which a snazzy Merc Cyclone is wont to roll.
The argument makes a crumpled, dusky din;
Trees overlook the ringing ... Time out! Zut! We need
A respite from rambunctious hoi polloi,
Drawn-out retreats at abbeys 'mid whose groves
Howl wolves, wail owls; every now and then
Wafts the lyric plaint of Philomel, alias Biffo Bailey,
On a leafless bough, alas, or winging high above
The wounded earth, with its parties and its rhetoric,
Breeze of a charlatan, jocular, sublime.
2001
Marianne Moore por jueves
No, but I am conservative; opposed to regimentation.
Response to a questionnaire asking, "Do you take your stand with any political or politico-economic party or creed?" From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 674
Response to a questionnaire asking, "Do you take your stand with any political or politico-economic party or creed?" From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 674
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
Shakespeare's sonnet 2. Here.
I'm pondering a parody:
When forty harvests shall expand my gut
And cause a paunch where once was slenderness ...
I'm pondering a parody:
When forty harvests shall expand my gut
And cause a paunch where once was slenderness ...
biglatinwords
Respice. Adspice. Prospice. A new Catholic blog from the Philippines!
Quotation of note therefrom:
(HT: Sancta Sanctis.)
Quotation of note therefrom:
Martha was doing a lot of things FOR Christ, so it wasn't her running around that didn't set well with the Lord. It was her running around without listening to Him first that caused the whole scene. If Mary, who had sat at Christ's feet and listened to Him, had gotten up and fixed the house, she would probably have done a much better job than Martha. On the other hand, Martha could have done a thousand different chores for the Lord, but she would end up feeling fatigued, disoriented, and possibly even disappointed right afterwards.
(HT: Sancta Sanctis.)
Marianne Moore per mercoledì
The surrender of life doesn't seem to be demanded of me.
In response to a questionnaire from The Little Review, the last question of which was, "Why do you go on living?" From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 673
In response to a questionnaire from The Little Review, the last question of which was, "Why do you go on living?" From The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 673
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Marianne Moore for Tuesday
I am not voracious, eat regulation food, meat, cheese, vegetables and an additive when needed -- brewer's yeast, powdered alfalfa, watercress, dehydrated potato and tomato as convenient -- fisheggs of all kinds, raisins, honey and anything that purports to "make powerful animals." As for spirits, loyalty to brandy and whiskey, and certain wines, in signal emergencies, subdues intolerance on my part to alcohol, but I am simultaneously addicted to what Randall Jarrell in his book, The Lost World, calls "clear water, cold, so cold."
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, pp. 599-600
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, pp. 599-600
Monday, February 16, 2009
As another blogger might say ...
If only women could be Protestant pastors! If only Protestant pastors could marry! Then we wouldn't see stories like this.
Oh, wait ... Never mind.
Oh, wait ... Never mind.
Marianne Moore für Montag
I see no revolution in the springs of what results in "poetry." No revolution in creativeness. Irrepressible emotion, joy, grief, desperation, triumph -- inward forces which resulted in the Book of Job, Dante (the Vita Nuova, Inferno), Chaucer, Shakespeare -- are the same forces which result in poetry today. "Endless curiosity, observation, research, and a great amount of joy in the thing," George Grosz, the caricaturist said, explained his art. These account for many other forms of art, I would say.
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 592
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 592
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Marianne Moore pour dimanche
A narrow sheath or pant (if I may use the word) does not set a hippomoid figure off to advantage.
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 616
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 616
Thursday, February 12, 2009
W. H. Auden
Dante
Was utterly enchanté
When Beatrice cried in tones that were peachy:
Noi siamo amici.
from "Academic Graffiti"
Was utterly enchanté
When Beatrice cried in tones that were peachy:
Noi siamo amici.
from "Academic Graffiti"
Monday, February 09, 2009
Sublimity now!
An Inside Catholic column by Eve Tushnet. It speaks to me, because, in part, it deals with the difference between a beauty that is merely cutesy-pie (a beauty that one can master) and a Beauty that is as "terrible as an army with banners" (a Beauty that masters one).
About six years ago, on this blog, I tried to categorize the different types of beauty, and came up with four "beauties": the Awesome, the Pretty, the Gorgeous, and the Cute. I blush to recall the absolute silliness of my attempt at being, what? serious? philosophical?, but I think I might have hit on something akin to the Sublime when I was writing about the Awesome. (The Gorgeous, if I remember correctly, was also a kind of beauty that masters one, but it lacked the element of holiness or purity that the Awesome possessed.)
I don't know if there was a difference, or can't remember what the difference was, between the Pretty and the Cute. But it seems that both of those beauties were of the type that one could possess or master. It was a beauty that delighted and charmed, not a beauty that terrified or thrilled or caused one to seek divine help to keep from fainting.
Anyway, go read Eve's column, as it will edify far beyond anything I have to say.
About six years ago, on this blog, I tried to categorize the different types of beauty, and came up with four "beauties": the Awesome, the Pretty, the Gorgeous, and the Cute. I blush to recall the absolute silliness of my attempt at being, what? serious? philosophical?, but I think I might have hit on something akin to the Sublime when I was writing about the Awesome. (The Gorgeous, if I remember correctly, was also a kind of beauty that masters one, but it lacked the element of holiness or purity that the Awesome possessed.)
I don't know if there was a difference, or can't remember what the difference was, between the Pretty and the Cute. But it seems that both of those beauties were of the type that one could possess or master. It was a beauty that delighted and charmed, not a beauty that terrified or thrilled or caused one to seek divine help to keep from fainting.
Anyway, go read Eve's column, as it will edify far beyond anything I have to say.
Understatement
Being reborn in Jesus is not rapid for many of us.
Jean Vanier, via February's Magnificat, p. 119
Jean Vanier, via February's Magnificat, p. 119
5.43 am
Last night I read nearly half of David Sedaris's Me Talk Pretty One Day. Literary junk food. Uproariously funny. Occasionally the sarcasm becomes wearisome, as in the chapter about performance art and drug use (although it's good to be sarcastic about performance art, I suppose), but oftener than not I'm laughing out loud, whether it's guitar lessons or speech therapy or his vulgar-mouthed younger brother he's writing about.
:: :: :: :: ::
The Boston mayor's race is getting crowded. The sixty-something thick-tongued incumbent, Thomas Menino, may run for a fifth term. But there's a moderately progressive former city council president, 39-year-old Michael Flaherty, and an ultraprogressive city councilor at large, thirty-something Sam Yoon, who'll be opposing the mayor. I say good on both of them. Although Menino is still fairly popular and (depending on who you talk to) effective, I'm not sure a twenty-year mayoralty is something desirable for anyone other than the mayor. Menino's immediate predecessor, Ray Flynn, served nearly ten years, and Kevin White, before Flynn, served sixteen. So Boston has had only three mayors since 1967, when Lyndon Johnson was president.
If I were still living within the city limits of Boston, I'd probably vote for Flaherty.
:: :: :: :: ::
There was a crane collapse near the beloved Brattle Book Shop. One man was killed. The crane landed in the discount book lot next to the bookstore, the $1 to $5 shelves. Customers were browsing the outdoor shelves at the time (I think), but no one on the ground was injured. A lot of inexpensive books were destroyed, but of course, that's of no consequence compared to the loss of a human life.
:: :: :: :: ::
My favorite morning news reporter is back from vacation! Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum! A half-hour ago she wasn't wearing a hat. Now she is.
It's 28 degrees in Boston, a bit of a cooldown after yesterday's relative warmth. It hit fifty but stayed quite breezy, so there was something of a wind chill. The wind made one's eyes water as one was walking from the church to the pharmacy.
But the point is, I don't blame her for putting the hat on.
:: :: :: :: ::
I've never met a Methodist I didn't like. (More on this later, maybe.)
:: :: :: :: ::
Dentist tomorrow to get a filling "re-done." They never give me enough Novocaine; I always feel the drill. This time, I will be politely emphatic in my request for enough Novocaine.
:: :: :: :: ::
Time to start the coffee, methinks.
:: :: :: :: ::
The Boston mayor's race is getting crowded. The sixty-something thick-tongued incumbent, Thomas Menino, may run for a fifth term. But there's a moderately progressive former city council president, 39-year-old Michael Flaherty, and an ultraprogressive city councilor at large, thirty-something Sam Yoon, who'll be opposing the mayor. I say good on both of them. Although Menino is still fairly popular and (depending on who you talk to) effective, I'm not sure a twenty-year mayoralty is something desirable for anyone other than the mayor. Menino's immediate predecessor, Ray Flynn, served nearly ten years, and Kevin White, before Flynn, served sixteen. So Boston has had only three mayors since 1967, when Lyndon Johnson was president.
If I were still living within the city limits of Boston, I'd probably vote for Flaherty.
:: :: :: :: ::
There was a crane collapse near the beloved Brattle Book Shop. One man was killed. The crane landed in the discount book lot next to the bookstore, the $1 to $5 shelves. Customers were browsing the outdoor shelves at the time (I think), but no one on the ground was injured. A lot of inexpensive books were destroyed, but of course, that's of no consequence compared to the loss of a human life.
:: :: :: :: ::
My favorite morning news reporter is back from vacation! Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum! A half-hour ago she wasn't wearing a hat. Now she is.
It's 28 degrees in Boston, a bit of a cooldown after yesterday's relative warmth. It hit fifty but stayed quite breezy, so there was something of a wind chill. The wind made one's eyes water as one was walking from the church to the pharmacy.
But the point is, I don't blame her for putting the hat on.
:: :: :: :: ::
I've never met a Methodist I didn't like. (More on this later, maybe.)
:: :: :: :: ::
Dentist tomorrow to get a filling "re-done." They never give me enough Novocaine; I always feel the drill. This time, I will be politely emphatic in my request for enough Novocaine.
:: :: :: :: ::
Time to start the coffee, methinks.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Poetry question : Vernon Watkins
Maybe readers from the UK can help. I have an imperfectly remembered poem going through my mind. I'm certain the author is Vernon Watkins (1906-67). Can someone provide the title, or maybe even the rest of the poem?
Wits that learn from mother-wit are keenest
Nor is there nobility of style
Till the proud man kneels to help the meanest
Those who justify themselves are vile
Wits that learn from mother-wit are keenest
Nor is there nobility of style
Till the proud man kneels to help the meanest
Those who justify themselves are vile
Saturday, February 07, 2009
This weekend's Marianne Moore
Hair should not be synonymous with a hurricane.
From "Dress and Kindred Subjects," in The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 597
From "Dress and Kindred Subjects," in The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 597
Friday, February 06, 2009
Political quiz
Here's the quiz. It's rather long!
(Found here.)
My results:
My Political Views
I am a right moderate social libertarian
Right: 3.16, Libertarian: 1.93
Political Spectrum Quiz
My Foreign Policy Views
Score: -3.84
Political Spectrum Quiz
My Culture War Stance
Score: 2.7
Political Spectrum Quiz
Addendum : Longtime readers of this blog will note that my foreign policy views, especially, have changed since 2003.
(Found here.)
My results:
My Political Views
I am a right moderate social libertarian
Right: 3.16, Libertarian: 1.93
Political Spectrum Quiz
My Foreign Policy Views
Score: -3.84
Political Spectrum Quiz
My Culture War Stance
Score: 2.7
Political Spectrum Quiz
Addendum : Longtime readers of this blog will note that my foreign policy views, especially, have changed since 2003.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Quotation
He never exactly obeyed you; he sometimes agreed with you.
C S Lewis on his dog Tim, in Surprised by Joy, p. 163
C S Lewis on his dog Tim, in Surprised by Joy, p. 163
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
The Screwtape Letters
Recently re-read it after about 15 years. It retains its potency!
But I have one question, addressed to those who have also read the book. (And I'm trying to avoid spoilers out of consideration for those who haven't.) The fellow whom the devils were trying to ensnare -- did he marry the girl, or were they just engaged, or boyfriend/girlfriend? I could go back and re-read the relevant letters, but I don't feel like it. (I'm embarrassed by my faltering ability to retain even what I've just read!)
I'm under the impression that they were not married. Am I right, or did I miss some crucial phrase?
But I have one question, addressed to those who have also read the book. (And I'm trying to avoid spoilers out of consideration for those who haven't.) The fellow whom the devils were trying to ensnare -- did he marry the girl, or were they just engaged, or boyfriend/girlfriend? I could go back and re-read the relevant letters, but I don't feel like it. (I'm embarrassed by my faltering ability to retain even what I've just read!)
I'm under the impression that they were not married. Am I right, or did I miss some crucial phrase?
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
To paraphrase Denis Leary
Russia, Germany, Romania -- they can have all the democracy they want. They can have a big democracy cakewalk right through the middle of Tiananmen Square and it won't make a lick of difference because ...
we've got the Williams sisters.
Therefore, we rule.
we've got the Williams sisters.
Therefore, we rule.
Friday, January 30, 2009
If I were sixteen today (1958): this weekend's Marianne Moore
I would, if I could, let little things be little things -- would be less susceptible to embarrassment. David Seabury says, "When you are saying, 'I can't be calm, I can't be calm,' you can be calm." Don't relive bad moments, or revive them for others, or be expecting more of them. To postponers, I would say, DO IT NOW; and to firebrands of impatience, ROME WAS NOT BUILT IN A DAY. "Superiority" is at the opposite pole from insight. Fashion can make you ridiculous; style, which is yours to control individually, can make you attractive -- a near siren. What of chastity? It confers a particular strength. Until recently, I took it for granted -- like avoiding "any drugs."
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 503
from The Complete Prose of Marianne Moore, p. 503
Cummings
what time is it?it is by every star
a different time,and each most falsely true;
or so subhuman superminds declare
--nor all their times encompass me and you:
when are we never,but forever now
(hosts of eternity;not guests of seem)
believe me,dear,clocks have enough to do
without confusing timelessness and time.
Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell--
measure imagine,mystery,a kiss
--not though mankind would rather know than feel;
mistrusting utterly that timelessness
whose absence would make your whole life and my
(and infinite our)merely to undie
a different time,and each most falsely true;
or so subhuman superminds declare
--nor all their times encompass me and you:
when are we never,but forever now
(hosts of eternity;not guests of seem)
believe me,dear,clocks have enough to do
without confusing timelessness and time.
Time cannot children,poets,lovers tell--
measure imagine,mystery,a kiss
--not though mankind would rather know than feel;
mistrusting utterly that timelessness
whose absence would make your whole life and my
(and infinite our)merely to undie
Two posts about anger
from the Orthodox Christian priest who blogs at Glory to God for All Things: Understanding Anger and Loving an Angry God. To be read, and perhaps to be re-read.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Two poets discuss the Psalms
This exchange may be of interest to some. Poets Peter O'Leary and Alicia Ostriker discuss the poetry of the Psalms; unfortunately, the translation they use in their correspondence seems a mite unpoetic (a version produced by one Robert Alter, attempting fidelity to the Hebrew).
The discussion is valuable (to me, at least) for the light it sheds on the art of translation, and for the other poets alluded-to (among them John Berryman and Walt Whitman; in fact, one of my favorite Whitman passages is quoted by Ostriker).
The discussion is valuable (to me, at least) for the light it sheds on the art of translation, and for the other poets alluded-to (among them John Berryman and Walt Whitman; in fact, one of my favorite Whitman passages is quoted by Ostriker).
Interview meme
Here are the rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me".
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. (I get to pick the questions).
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. (I guess you ask to be interviewed by putting a comment in the combox that says, "Interview me!")
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Five questions for me from Enbrethiliel of Sancta Sanctis:
1) If you were to write a Fan Fiction story, which movie, book or TV show would you take for your canon?
Hmm. Tough one. I'm not good at any kind of fiction, but a movie that I think is unjustly underrecognized is Johnny Stecchino starring Roberto Benigni. Maybe I'd try something with that!
2) If your favourite food were a poem, which poem would it be?
It would have to be something Italian and satisfying! Maybe the sonnet in Dante's La Vita Nuova that begins "Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare / La donna mia ..." ("So gentle and so virtuous appears / My lady ...")
3) Which three songs would be essential to a road trip mix?
Easy one:
"Give Me One Reason" by Tracy Chapman
"Moondance" by Van Morrison
"How Soon Is Now?" by the Smiths
4) Would you rather have been named after Dylan Thomas or Bob Dylan? (I'm assuming Dylan is your real name!)
I chose my pen-name dylan to pay tribute to Dylan Thomas, who in spite of many personal flaws was a most compelling poet.
5) Where were you when you learned that Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger had been elected pope?
When I learned that Cardinal Ratzinger had been elected, I was in East Boston, Massachusetts, USA, on my computer. When the world learned he had been elected, I was at Boston Medical Center in the South End of Boston, accompanying my mom to a doctor's appointment. Pleasant weather that day, IIRC.
Thank you, Enbrethiliel!!!
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me".
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. (I get to pick the questions).
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. (I guess you ask to be interviewed by putting a comment in the combox that says, "Interview me!")
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Five questions for me from Enbrethiliel of Sancta Sanctis:
1) If you were to write a Fan Fiction story, which movie, book or TV show would you take for your canon?
Hmm. Tough one. I'm not good at any kind of fiction, but a movie that I think is unjustly underrecognized is Johnny Stecchino starring Roberto Benigni. Maybe I'd try something with that!
2) If your favourite food were a poem, which poem would it be?
It would have to be something Italian and satisfying! Maybe the sonnet in Dante's La Vita Nuova that begins "Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare / La donna mia ..." ("So gentle and so virtuous appears / My lady ...")
3) Which three songs would be essential to a road trip mix?
Easy one:
"Give Me One Reason" by Tracy Chapman
"Moondance" by Van Morrison
"How Soon Is Now?" by the Smiths
4) Would you rather have been named after Dylan Thomas or Bob Dylan? (I'm assuming Dylan is your real name!)
I chose my pen-name dylan to pay tribute to Dylan Thomas, who in spite of many personal flaws was a most compelling poet.
5) Where were you when you learned that Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger had been elected pope?
When I learned that Cardinal Ratzinger had been elected, I was in East Boston, Massachusetts, USA, on my computer. When the world learned he had been elected, I was at Boston Medical Center in the South End of Boston, accompanying my mom to a doctor's appointment. Pleasant weather that day, IIRC.
Thank you, Enbrethiliel!!!
Least religious states?
Caught it out of the corner of my eye, but apparently someone did a survey or study or poll and concluded that the least religious states in the Union are:
1. Vermont
2. Massachusetts
3. New Hampshire
4. Maine
Update: I accidentally flipped the order of #2 (NH) and #3 (Massachusetts). Oops! And it was a survey of the whole country.
New York and California nowhere to be found? Or was this a New England-only survey? I'll have to check again.
But Vermont doesn't surprise me; in places like Brattleboro and Putney (from what I saw twelve years ago), the religion is very much college-campus-style progressivism. (I can visualize the bookstores, much like Harvard's, with the shrines to Obama in the front windows. I can visualize whirled peas.)
Massachusetts does surprise me; you have plenty of tenacious Catholics, and others who have lapsed in every meaningful respect, but who still wouldn't dream of eating a hamburger on Ash Wednesday. New Hampshire is a bit of a shocker: Northern New Hampshire, especially, instills religious thoughts! And I don't know enough about Maine, but I think there's a similar hippie/earthy-crunchy vibe -- similar to Vermont, that is. (Yes, Maine has two Republican senators, but they're both pro-choice women. I think Vermont has a Republican governor, also "progressive" where it matters to progressives.)
But back to religion. I've mentioned only Catholics, but there are other denominations of Christianity, and other religions, that might find adherents among even the most incorrigibly "liberal." Heck, Catholicism has its incorrigibly liberal adherents! (Many of them can be found in this, the second "least religious state" in the survey!) So I don't know who did this survey, but I suspect that something's amiss.
1. Vermont
2. Massachusetts
3. New Hampshire
4. Maine
Update: I accidentally flipped the order of #2 (NH) and #3 (Massachusetts). Oops! And it was a survey of the whole country.
New York and California nowhere to be found? Or was this a New England-only survey? I'll have to check again.
But Vermont doesn't surprise me; in places like Brattleboro and Putney (from what I saw twelve years ago), the religion is very much college-campus-style progressivism. (I can visualize the bookstores, much like Harvard's, with the shrines to Obama in the front windows. I can visualize whirled peas.)
Massachusetts does surprise me; you have plenty of tenacious Catholics, and others who have lapsed in every meaningful respect, but who still wouldn't dream of eating a hamburger on Ash Wednesday. New Hampshire is a bit of a shocker: Northern New Hampshire, especially, instills religious thoughts! And I don't know enough about Maine, but I think there's a similar hippie/earthy-crunchy vibe -- similar to Vermont, that is. (Yes, Maine has two Republican senators, but they're both pro-choice women. I think Vermont has a Republican governor, also "progressive" where it matters to progressives.)
But back to religion. I've mentioned only Catholics, but there are other denominations of Christianity, and other religions, that might find adherents among even the most incorrigibly "liberal." Heck, Catholicism has its incorrigibly liberal adherents! (Many of them can be found in this, the second "least religious state" in the survey!) So I don't know who did this survey, but I suspect that something's amiss.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Steam o' consciousness
[yes, "steam," as in the steam rising from the morning coffee, at six a.m., when the matter below was written]
The poet W. H. Auden was in the irreverent habit, in idle moments, of replacing references to God in Sacred Scripture with the phrase "Your mother." I have no idea why. But I do something similar with hymns, except my replacement-words are "Heather" (name of a very dear friend since childhood) or "belly." Therefore, "Good King Wenceslas" becomes:
Heather is a lib'ral kid
And she has a belly;
Heather likes gigantic squid,
I like Trappist jelly
Or something like that.
I think I have a two-year-older's attitude toward language, in my idle moments. Sounds are playthings. The actor/author Stephen Fry is like this, too. He wakes up with nonsense phrases on the brain, like "Hoversmack tender estimate" or "Gwendolyn Bruce Snetterton." And he'll repeat these words to himself while shaving, or something.
The Speaker of the Massachusetts House of Representatives, one Sal DiMasi (rhymes with "Tracy," I think), is stepping down for ... personal reasons. The possible ethics violations hanging over his head, of course, have nothing to do with it. I never liked the guy. One should never judge by appearances, but I think in his case I did. Something about his looks rubbed me the wrong way. Of course, we all can't be as telegenic as I am. Ha!
I no longer have a beard. When I had a beard, several years ago, I was told more than once that I looked like the bearded guy on Home Improvement (Richard Karn, later to be host of Family Feud).
Not all attractive women are near occasions of sin. (Some are near occasions of anger, because of their politics!) But some are just so sublimely beautiful and sweet, one merely marvels, and doth not covet.
Yes, I'm non-sequituring like it's going out of style!
If I ever get a dog (as is the case with Malia Obama, allergies would make that tricky), I'd name him or her Anathema. So I could say, "Anathema, sit! Good dog!" [Dreadful Latin pun which I must share with Sam, the Latin teacher.]
The blogger at Some Have Hats writes that she's heard only one anti-abortion homily since she's been a Catholic, and wagered with a friend last Easter that the homilist would say "gay" before he would say "Resurrection," and she won the bet. Here in libera-bibble Massachusetts, the situation is not so dire! Of course, not every priest is Fr D at St Agnes's (an exuberant traditionalist who has preached against not only abortion but contraception), but still ...
I need some grand summation to this post. It's getting a bit like my senior-year (high school) oral report on Dylan Thomas and William Blake, where I rambled off the cuff for 25+ minutes, carried by enthusiasm over my subject, but didn't quite know how to end. Robert Graves once ended a poem "at a careless comma," but that's been done. Eliot famously ended the world "not with a bang but a whimper." And the psalter ends with the phrase "Praise the Lord." If I were Rod Blagojevich, I'd end with a choice expletive! A three-letter word, as Joe Biden might say.
I'll end by stealing from Edward Estlin Cummings, on mortality and im-:
death,as men call him,ends what they call men
--but beauty is more now than dying's when
The poet W. H. Auden was in the irreverent habit, in idle moments, of replacing references to God in Sacred Scripture with the phrase "Your mother." I have no idea why. But I do something similar with hymns, except my replacement-words are "Heather" (name of a very dear friend since childhood) or "belly." Therefore, "Good King Wenceslas" becomes:
Heather is a lib'ral kid
And she has a belly;
Heather likes gigantic squid,
I like Trappist jelly
Or something like that.
I think I have a two-year-older's attitude toward language, in my idle moments. Sounds are playthings. The actor/author Stephen Fry is like this, too. He wakes up with nonsense phrases on the brain, like "Hoversmack tender estimate" or "Gwendolyn Bruce Snetterton." And he'll repeat these words to himself while shaving, or something.
The Speaker of the Massachusetts House of Representatives, one Sal DiMasi (rhymes with "Tracy," I think), is stepping down for ... personal reasons. The possible ethics violations hanging over his head, of course, have nothing to do with it. I never liked the guy. One should never judge by appearances, but I think in his case I did. Something about his looks rubbed me the wrong way. Of course, we all can't be as telegenic as I am. Ha!
I no longer have a beard. When I had a beard, several years ago, I was told more than once that I looked like the bearded guy on Home Improvement (Richard Karn, later to be host of Family Feud).
Not all attractive women are near occasions of sin. (Some are near occasions of anger, because of their politics!) But some are just so sublimely beautiful and sweet, one merely marvels, and doth not covet.
Yes, I'm non-sequituring like it's going out of style!
If I ever get a dog (as is the case with Malia Obama, allergies would make that tricky), I'd name him or her Anathema. So I could say, "Anathema, sit! Good dog!" [Dreadful Latin pun which I must share with Sam, the Latin teacher.]
The blogger at Some Have Hats writes that she's heard only one anti-abortion homily since she's been a Catholic, and wagered with a friend last Easter that the homilist would say "gay" before he would say "Resurrection," and she won the bet. Here in libera-bibble Massachusetts, the situation is not so dire! Of course, not every priest is Fr D at St Agnes's (an exuberant traditionalist who has preached against not only abortion but contraception), but still ...
I need some grand summation to this post. It's getting a bit like my senior-year (high school) oral report on Dylan Thomas and William Blake, where I rambled off the cuff for 25+ minutes, carried by enthusiasm over my subject, but didn't quite know how to end. Robert Graves once ended a poem "at a careless comma," but that's been done. Eliot famously ended the world "not with a bang but a whimper." And the psalter ends with the phrase "Praise the Lord." If I were Rod Blagojevich, I'd end with a choice expletive! A three-letter word, as Joe Biden might say.
I'll end by stealing from Edward Estlin Cummings, on mortality and im-:
death,as men call him,ends what they call men
--but beauty is more now than dying's when
I'm linking to Andrew Sullivan
Apparently, one of the SSPX bishops whom Pope Benedict has restored to communion with the catholica is quite the unpleasant character. Maybe he has sound views on liturgy, but if what Sullivan tells us is true, I find myself wishing that the bishop could have been left "in the cold." (Although I don't know if his unpalatable views are excommunicable offenses, perhaps His Holiness could have restored the bishop to communion while simultaneously suspending his faculties.)
Of course, Andrew Sullivan would gladly see the Church transformed into the other extreme, with The Vicar of Dibley as Supreme Pontiff, but his concerns about Bishop Williamson (most of them, anyway) seem valid.
Of course, Andrew Sullivan would gladly see the Church transformed into the other extreme, with The Vicar of Dibley as Supreme Pontiff, but his concerns about Bishop Williamson (most of them, anyway) seem valid.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
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