Flannery O'Connor

The creative action of a Christian's life is to prepare for his death in Christ.

From "A Memoir of Mary Ann." Found in the biography The Life You Save May Be Your Own: An American Pilgrimage by Paul Elie (FSG, 2003), p. 314

Cummings again

--saharas have their centuries,ten thousand
of which are smaller than a rose's moment

Being a Catholic

means that sometimes you cannot marry the person you want to marry, when you want to marry them. It means not always being able to sleep with the person one may want to sleep with, at one's personal convenience, if at all. At times, being a faithful Catholic means NEVER being able to marry or sleep with the person one loves. It means self-denial and taking up the cross, which is why chastity and consecrated celibacy are among the highest forms of love and martyrdom.

So many people want the trappings of Catholicism, but not the inner core of suffering and sacrifice that must accompany true belief.

Found here.

And now for something completely different

Go see and hear Tracy sing "Give Me One Reason."

(Hope that works.)

Merton
from The Sign of Jonas, Dec. 24, 1946

We really have to believe in our Superiors. We cannot simply judge them by human standards, taking the things they tell us as opinions that are to be weighed in the balance with our own.

Merton, twenty years later
from the "Midsummer Diary" appendix to Learning to Love, June 22, 1966

In any case, one senses the basically destructive and desperate nature of Dom J.'s [the abbot's] brand of fervor. It poses an immense problem. [...] I will not waste time worrying about it. He is a providential affliction, a kind of skin disease that I have to live with in patience. I loathe everything he stands for.

Cummings

(existing's tricky:but to live's a gift)

Merton
from vol. 6 of the Journals, p. 340

It is a hot night. Where will I be when the dark falls and the dragons come and there is no more beer?

6/18

Turned ninety-eight on Monday (well, not quite) ...

In 1969 (the year you were born)

Richard Nixon becomes president of the US Mary Jo Kopechne is killed when Senator Edward Kennedy veers off a narrow bridge on Chappaquiddick Island, crashing into a pond US astronaut Neil Armstrong becomes the first person to set foot on the moon while commanding the Apollo 11 mission Breathtaking pictures of Mars are transmitted to earth from NASA's Mariner 7 as it passes within 2,200 miles of the Red Planet Woodstock music festival begins in upstate NY, featuring performances by Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, and many more artists 250,000 Vietnam War protestors gather in Washington for the largest anti-war rally in US history The first draft lottery since WWII is held in New York City The Beatles' performance in public for the last time, on the roof of Apple Records The Stonewall riots mark the start of the modern gay rights movement in the US Marilyn Manson, Jennifer Aniston, Renee Zellweger, Edward Norton, Christian Slater, and Linus Torvalds are born New York Mets win the World Series New York Jets win Superbowl III Montreal Canadiens win the Stanley Cup Sesame Street premieres Midnight Cowboy wins the Oscar for best picture David Bowie's debut single, "Space Oddity", becomes a huge hit - in part due to the US landing on the moon Sharon Tate & the LaBiancas are found murdered by Charles Manson & "family"

What Happened the Year You Were Born?

This I knew

but took the quiz anyway ...

You Belong in Fall

Intelligent, introspective, and quite expressive at times... You appreciate the changes in color, climate, and mood that fall brings Whether you're carving wacky pumpkins or taking long drives, autumn is a favorite time of year for you

What Season Are You?

"The sacrifices you want to make aren’t always the only sacrifices God wants"

-- from Eve Tushnet's half of this exchange of views at Commonweal magazine.

Those words have implications far beyond the topic of the article.

Survey says

Was watching a game-show yesterday (a constructive use of time, to be sure), and the host asked the contestants to "name someone, living or dead, whose ideas have made the world a better place." The top five answers were on the board.

An interesting mix was eventually revealed:

1. Martin Luther King, Jr.
2. Oprah Winfrey
3. Bill Clinton
4. Benjamin Franklin
5. Jesus

What can one possibly say

Thank Heaven I've never seen anything like this. Unbelievable.

And finally ...

You Are A Martini

You are the kind of drinker who appreciates a nice hard drink. And for you, only quality alcohol. You don't waste your time on the cheap stuff. Obviously, you're usually found with a martini in your hand. But sometimes you mix it up with a gin and tonic. And you'd never, ever consider one of those flavored martinis. They're hardly a drink!

What Alcoholic Drink Are You?

And this

despite selecting Dublin as the pub-crawl city ...

You Are Heineken

You appreciate a good beer, but you're not a snob about it. You like your beer mild and easy to drink, so you can concentrate on being drunk. Overall, you're a friendly drunk who's likely to buy a whole round for your friends... many times. Sometimes you can be a bit boring when you drink. You may be prone to go on about topics no one cares about.

What's Your Beer Personality?

A poet's birthday

One hundred forty-two years ago, the author of this poem was born.

It took three attempts

to get something other than Chardonnay ...

You Are Pinot Noir

Sophisticated and worldly, you probably know more about wine than most drinkers. You have great taste, and you approach all aspects of life with a gourmet attitude. You believe that the little things in life should be cherished and enjoyed... and of the best quality possible. And while you may take more time to eat a meal or tour a city, it's always time well spent. Deep down you are: A seductive charmer Your partying style: Refined. And you would never call it "partying" Your company is enjoyed best with: Stinky expensive cheese

What Kind of Wine Are You?

No blogging here tomorrow

Instead, an appointment with the dentist.

The wonders of the NAB

Mark 7:18-19 He said to them, "Are even you likewise without understanding? Do you not realize that everything that goes into a person from outside cannot defile, since it enters not the heart but the stomach and passes out into the latrine?"

Jeremiah 17:6 He is like a barren bush in the desert that enjoys no change of season, But stands in a lava waste, a salt and empty earth.

Isaiah 9:5 For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.

Latrine?

Lava?

God-Hero?

Liturgy back to normal (mostly)
at the new church in Chelsea

Now that the Easter season is over, we're saying the Creed, using a penitential rite, and seeing a crucifix with a corpus.

Why the pastor would choose to commemorate the Easter season by leaving out the Creed, or why he would omit the Pentecost sequence two Sundays ago, or why he doesn't make the sign of the Cross over the gifts at the epiclesis, is anyone's guess.

Pretend James Lipton is sitting across from you and hanging on every word
via Oblique House

(I'm only about a month late in doing this ...)

What is your favorite word? baby; belly
What is your least favorite word? father; pro-active
What turns you on [creatively, spiritually or emotionally]? autumn; the year's first snowfall
What turns you off? summer; bugs
What is your favorite curse word? "son of a blank blank bitch," in which the two blanks represent two other curse words that I'm not printing here
What sound or noise do you love? coffee being brewed by an automatic-drip coffee-maker; WGBH radio jazz at low volume
What sound or noise do you hate? blaring rap anthems
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? monk or friar, but my disposition prohibits
What profession would you not like to do? would not like to be working the lottery machine at a convenience store on a night when the mega-power-jackpot-thingie is over $200 million, and hordes of lottery fanatics are in line to get their tickets
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? anything but "depart from me"

20th-century Catholicism

Whispers in the Loggia posts a tribute to American Catholicism's greatest product.

And TCRNews Musings nominates another figure as a great Christian soul, likening him to the late Pope John Paul II. The comparison is, perhaps, audacious.

Places oft visited

Poetry

Recently, Steven Riddle posted a lovely sonnet by a poet named Alfonsina Storni. (He has also shared some Czeslaw Milosz and Pablo Neruda.)

Martyrdom

Karen Marie Knapp reminds us of the sacrifice made by the 19th century Ugandan martyrs, whose memorial is usually on June 3rd; also, we learn of seminarians martyred in Burundi in 1997 for their refusal to divide themselves into Hutu and Tutsi.

Ode on a Grecian Urn
by John Keats (1795-1821)


1.

THOU still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

2.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

3.

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

4.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

5.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” -— that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

I will incline mine ear to the parable, and show my dark speech upon the harp

Here is the same verse from Psalm 49, as it appears in the Grail psalter:

I will turn my mind to a parable,
with the harp I will solve my problem.

And in the New American Bible:

I will turn my attention to a problem, expound my question to the music of a lyre.

There's a word for it

I think it's "ear-worm": a song you can't eject from your brain no matter how hard you try. I have a peculiar twist on this problem: really irritating songs that you can't get out of your head. Truly godawful songs or jingles that you just can't escape, and, although you loathe them, you find yourself singing them in the shower or at the computer or wherever you do your singing.

What are the most irritating songs that you can't get out of your head? Just curious.

Once

Saw this film last Saturday. Enjoyed it.

Rated R for language. The f-word does pop up a lot. Other than that, none of the usual objectionable matter.

I found the music to be somewhere between very good and tolerably good, except for one awful thing where the refrain was screamed rather than sung (oddly enough, it's the song that leads to the guy meeting the girl).

A fascinating tale of near-romance and serendipitous artistic collaboration.

A crimson umbrella

I hope it lasts for longer than two or three rainstorms. I hope a fierce northeast wind doesn't turn it inside out and wreck it the first chance it gets.

I've had bad luck with umbrellas recently, so I had to buy a new one. This one appears to be of sturdy make, opens at the push of a button, has a nice wooden handle, offers a 56-inch diameter of protection, and bears the Harvard insignia (I didn't go to Harvard). I think it was made in China, unfortunately.

But all I really care about is: Can it withstand the wind? It hasn't been tested yet. Here's hoping it lasts.

Why I don't blog nearly as often as I used to

Some reasons:

1. I don't blog from where I live, so I don't have access to all my books, the books which inspire much of the blogging.

(Even where I live nowadays, I don't have access to all my books. For the last three years, I've been living in apartments with extremely small bedrooms that do not accommodate the 15 trillion volumes I've collected over the years. I just have one modest bookcase's worth of reading material. A cousin of mine has boxes and boxes of my books in storage at his home, in his basement or attic or somewhere.)

2. I don't drink nearly as much coffee or alcohol as I did in 2002-03. Both those substances do conduce to maniacally prolific blogging, if somewhat embarrassing blogging in retrospect.

3. I simply don't have the energy. That's a good thing, really. I had too much energy for a while there.

4. There's some unease about putting myself forward as some kind of expert or exemplar, particularly on matters of faith. (With poetry, it's different: I can evangelize, so to speak, for my favorite artists without hesitancy or qualm of any kind.) And as for politics, I'm becoming less and less convinced of my own wisdom as the years go by.

5. I'm too busy reading other people's blogs to work on my own with any degree of diligence or consistency! So, you can expect maybe three to five posts a week hereabouts.

Heartfelt thanks to everyone who stops by.

True art or fake art?

I scored 83% on this quiz.

Via TSO.

Emily Dickinson

(poem #564)

My period had come for Prayer -—
No other Art -— would do -—
My Tactics missed a rudiment -—
Creator -— Was it you?

God grows above -- so those who pray
Horizons -- must ascend --
And so I stepped upon the North
To see this Curious Friend --

His House was not -- no sign had He --
By Chimney -- nor by Door
Could I infer his Residence --
Vast Prairies of Air

Unbroken by a Settler --
Were all that I could see --
Infinitude -- Had’st Thou no Face
That I might look on Thee?

The Silence condescended --
Creation stopped -- for Me --
But awed beyond my errand --
I worshipped -- did not “pray” --

I like Harvard Book Store

It's a good place to buy books (both new and second-hand), and perhaps a better place to sell books. Today I unloaded a few that I never should have purchased in the first place:

(1) Selected Prose by John Ashbery;

(2) Where Shall I Wander (poetry) by John Ashbery;

(3) The Collected Poems of Frank O'Hara (whatever was I thinking when I bought this one?);

(4) The Dream Songs by John Berryman; and

(5) John L. Allen's 2000 biography of then-Cardinal Ratzinger, reissued and retitled Pope Benedict XVI -- this, largely a prolix complaint that the cardinal and future pontiff was not kind enough to dissident theologians.

I really should be more careful in my reading.

From the sublime to the ephemeral ...

You Scored 80% Correct

You are an 80s expert You never confuse New Order with the Pet Shop Boys You know which classical musician Falco rocked When it comes to 80s music, you Just Can't Get Enough!

How Much Do You Know About 80s Music?

Merton

I sing quietly to the immediate heart
One more wild hope dies of affliction

-- from Cables to the Ace, #56

Hunger
by Countee Cullen (1903-46)

Break me no bread however white it be;
It cannot fill the emptiness I know;
No wine can cool this desert thirst in me
Though it had lain a thousand years in snow;
No swooning lotus flower's languid juice
Drips anodyne unto my restlessness,
And impotent to win me to a truce
Is every artifice of loveliness.
Inevitable is the way I go,
False-faced amid a pageant permeate
With bliss, yet visioning a higher wave
Than this weak ripple washing to and fro;
The fool still keeps his dreams inviolate
Till their virginity espouse the grave.

:: :: ::

Today is the anniversary of the poet's birth.

An Encyclopaedia Britannica article on the poet.

Pentecost

Come, thou Holy Spirit, come,
And from thy celestial home
Shed a ray of light divine!

Come, thou Father of the poor!
Come, thou Source of all our store!
Come, within our bosoms shine!

Thou, of comforters the best;
Thou, the soul's most welcome guest;
Sweet refreshment here below;

In our labor, rest most sweet;
Grateful coolness in the heat;
Solace in the midst of woe.

O most blessèd Light divine,
Shine within these hearts of thine,
And our inmost being fill!

Where thou art not, man hath naught,
Nothing good in deed or thought,
Nothing free from taint of ill.

Heal our wounds, our strength renew;
On our dryness pour thy dew;
Wash the stains of guilt away;

Bend the stubborn heart and will;
Melt the frozen, warm the chill;
Guide the steps that go astray.

On the faithful, who adore
And confess thee, evermore
In thy sevenfold gift descend;

Give them virtue's sure reward;
Give them thy salvation, Lord;
Give them joys that never end.

Okey-dokey

I think Blogger wanted me to "upgrade my template." This I have done. Now I have to restore all the links I had in my other template's sidebar. Easy enough, right? But I've forgotten virtually all the html I used to know. So this will be something of a challenge.

And what in the world are widgets?

Update, 5.35 pm:

I've discovered how to add links to the sidebar: not nearly as difficult as anticipated. But I don't know how to install Haloscan; so, for the time being, I've switched to Blogger's commenting system.

Also, it's still impossible to link to the really old posts, because there's a "nopub" label attached to them.

Bei Dao

Link to a 2001 interview with the noted Chinese poet (exiled, until recently, from his homeland); included in the course of the interview, some of his poems. An excerpt:

Through the lens of language, even the reality of our days is altered. But in Bei Dao’s experience, the massive machinery of government was the sole arbiter of message and meaning.

“This phenomena [sic] really took off in the late stages of the Cultural Revolution when all our word-groups became fixed by the Party—and this was seen in newspapers, broadcasts, and in the language people used to speak with each other. As a simple example, take the word ‘sun’ or the word ‘red.’ ‘Sun’ really means ‘the leader,’ and ‘red’ means ‘the Party.’ I had a friend from middle school who was asked, ‘What color do you like?’ His response was, ‘I like blue.’ And this boy was censured for having the wrong political attitude, for being politically incorrect. In this way, the language has become so fixed and so controlled, there are no outside means of expression.”

Blogger problem

Still dealing with the phenomenon of the double permalink number (e.g., http://darkoctober618.blogspot.com/2007_05_27_
archive.html#7204484625214645014#7204484625214645014).

How to get rid of that extra #7204484625214645014? Someone out there must know the secret. Clue me in, if you can. Many thanks.

And this

via Credo ut intelligam:

You Belong in 1953

You're fun loving, romantic, and more than a little innocent. See you at the drive in!

What Year Do You Belong In?

Well, one thing's for sure

There's no way I'd pick Starbucks over Dunkin' Donuts.

You Are 80% Massachusetts

You're pretty Massachusetts, but you're starting to slip. Go eat a bulky roll and flip off a New Yorker.

How Massachusetts Are You?